


You Asked For This

by TeenCaterpillar



Series: Harringrove Snippets [9]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Brain Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mutual Pining, Neil is a POS, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Max, Protective Steve Harrington, Soft Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 32,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: A collection of tumblr request fics.  Will vary in length, tags, and ratings, so those are prime to change.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Harringrove Snippets [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506065
Comments: 42
Kudos: 220





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, go, go.
> 
> This was for an anon on tumblr. The prompt was:
> 
> _Something post season 3. In my head, I imagine being the Mindflayer's host probably has some nasty side effects. I mean, the the thing forced itself physically inside his head. That's bound to mess you up. It left Billy with a brain injury that manifests itself in seizures. One night, Neil hits Billy and triggers a really bad one. From there it's just lots of angsty worried Steve and some worried Max and that's it._
> 
> Unbeta'd

When Billy had been impaled, he’d been relieved. It was over, finally over. He had lain there, staring up, a blurry Max yelling above him. He hoped he said his apology and didn’t just think it. He hoped that maybe she would mourn him, even for just a little while.

And then he’d woken up in the hospital, confused about where he was, _who_ he was, and unable to make his mouth work. He thought words, lots of them, mostly _what the fuck?_ Then there’d been a redhead, someone he knew he should know, but _didn’t_ , and then he was asleep again.

That happened a few more times before Billy was able to wake up without freaking out. A nurse had stood above him, saying something, but he couldn’t figure it out at first. Finally, after she repeated it a few times, he was able to gather enough to understand that he’d “lived through a fire and the mall collapsing,” but had gotten a collapsed lung and a traumatic brain injury. That recovery was going to be long and hard and wasn’t even a full guarantee.

He wondered why he was alive.

It took a few months, but Billy was finally able to walk and eat with little difficulty, though he had bad days and his hands trembled when he was stressed. Talking was still difficult. His sentences were stilted and short, words rattling around in his head, but he couldn’t get his mouth to say them. To say what he _meant_. It drove him crazy.

And when he finally returned home, it pissed his father the fuck _off_.

“Spit it out!” Neil had yelled, back handing Billy as he had been trying to respond to Neil’s question about what Billy’s plans for the future were. Because of course he was angry that Billy had lived. Was now a _burden_ who was fucking _useless_ , taking up space in his house. And Billy had nothing. Truly nothing. Because what could he say? I’m going to go get an apartment while I can barely ask Susan for a ride?

And of course, he couldn’t say any of that. So Neil had hit him, and Billy, well, he wasn’t in shape anymore. Had needed to relearn how to _walk_ , so he fell. He hit the wall, knocking his head against it. And it made his head spin and spin and _spin_ and--

And he went down, collapsing and panicking because he couldn’t _control himself, couldn’t move, couldn’t stop twitching--_

“Stop being dramatic,” Neil had spit out, kicking Billy in the side with his boot. But Billy didn’t get up, just laid there, crumpled, eyes wide as he jerked slightly, fingers twitching. Neil frowned. “Get up,” he ordered. Billy didn’t. “ _Get up_ ,” he tried again, but sweat began to bead on his forehead. “I fucking said _get up_!” He kicked Billy again, harder, but he stayed down, not even emitting a sound of pain. “Fuck,” Neil hissed. “Fuck!” And he ran. Grabbed his coat and ran.

When Max came into the hall, having heard yelling and the door slam, she saw Billy and screamed. He didn’t do anything more than jerk, a small whimper escaping from his lips.

“Billy!” Max ran over, stopping at the last moment, unsure if she should touch him. Billy whimpered again, the jerks becoming slower and more irregular as his heart slowed and he let out a cry, finally able to make his mouth work. Max jumped back and paused, staring down at him with fat tears rolling down her cheeks, before running back to her room. Billy faintly heard the crackling of her walkie, though he was having trouble making out the words, everything off kilter and he felt sick. Felt like he could move but was too tired to do so. Max’s words finally started to be clear and he heard _W-With Hopper and Mrs. Byers gone I-I--_ and _Please I don’t know what to do! My mom--_ and then when blinked, Max was there again, wiping her eyes and crying softly.

They’d been better, though it hadn’t been hard, seeing as Billy was quiet and withdrawn, nothing like himself before. He didn’t go out, walked everywhere, and he kept his head down. Guilt, embarrassment, and discomfort filled his days and the only bright spots were when Max told him about _her_ day. It was fucking _sad_. Billy reached out, movements slow, and gripped the front of her socked foot. Her breath hitched and she reached down, grabbing his hand.

“Billy?” Her voice was soft and he was _so_ grateful. “Billy I, uhm, I called Steve and he’s gonna be here soon. We’re gonna take you to the doctor, okay? You’re gonna be _fine_ , okay?” And when her voice cracked Billy felt his eyes fill with tears. He nodded weakly and she squeezed his fingers, only getting up when the door opened, Neil apparently hadn’t bothered to even _lock it_ , and Steve came in, red faced and panting.

“Fuck,” he gasped, staring down at Billy on the floor, who wished he could sink into the ground and _stay there_.

\--

A seizure. His father had slapped him so hard he gave him a _fucking_ seizure.

“What’s best for him right now?” Harrington had asked the nurse, brow furrowed with concern. Billy hated how it gave him butterflies.

“A stable environment and rest. No drinking, no smoking, and no vigorous activity for a day or two.” Billy didn’t mention that he was already _not_ doing that. “If he has another, come to us immediately. If he has any new symptoms, come to us immediately.” Billy tuned him out and looked out the window, feeling pathetic and angry. Max was holding his hand, both of them sitting on the hospital bed. Eventually, Steve waved the nurse off from the doorway and turned back to them.

“Sorry,” Billy croaked, feeling so fucking _worthless_.

“Don’t be,” Steve replied. “And I mean that. None of this is your fault.” Billy begged to differ. If he had just not let that fucking Mindflayer, or whatever they fucking called it, he didn’t fucking _care_ , take him over they wouldn’t even _be here_. Steve didn’t take his silence poorly, however, and just held his hand out. Billy took it, blushing for needing help up. He kept his eyes down and let Max take his hand and lead him out. After a moment he realized Steve was talking again. “--se, I mean we have plenty of room, and my parents are never home, I’m pretty much just house sitting--” Billy blinked and looked at him in shock.

“What?” He asked, confused. Steve stuttered to a stop and looked at him, eyes wide. Billy realized, belatedly, that he hadn’t really said much to Steve, except _Sorry_ since-- Since--

“Huh?” Steve replied, staring into Billy’s eyes so intently he looked away. Max tugged on his hand.

“He _said_ that you could stay with him. That you should.” When he looked at her, she had a determined look on her face.

“I-I couldn’t--”

“Seriously,” Steve said, cutting him off. “It’s no trouble. I mean, I still have work sometimes, but I can give you the number to call, if that works? If you can?” He looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t know how to talk about this. Billy could relate.

“I don’t--” Billy tried, pausing to clench his fists and eyes. “Rent?” Steve actually looked insulted.

“What? No! You can’t go back home, man,” Steve said, gripping Billy’s shoulder and pausing in the hospital entrance. He caught Billy’s eye. “You can’t. I’m not gonna take advantage of that.” A lump caught in Billy’s throat and he couldn’t say anything. So he just nodded and gripped Max’s hand tightly.

\--

At first it was weird, living with another person, in a huge house, with practically free reign. Billy stayed in his guest room most of the time, coming out when Steve was home and falling asleep to the sound of Steve shuffling around. He didn’t sleep much, was always bursting with nervous energy. Was fretting over Billy in a way that no one had since his mother. It was weird, but it wasn’t unwelcome. It was welcome, in fact. Just overwhelming. Billy was used to being touched, touched by those who wanted his body, wanted something from him, wanted to _hurt_ him, but he wasn’t used to _this_. Wasn’t used to the way Steve would gently grab his elbow as he passed, would help Billy with his buttons on bad days with no complaints, would cut up his goddamn food like he was a child and it made Billy’s head _spin_.

Steve fretted over him like he had nothing better to do. Like he had nothing else he _wanted_ to do. It made Billy’s stomach do flip flops.

He knew he had liked Harrington since he met him. Had wanted to fuck him at least. And now here he was, still as gorgeous and magnetic as ever, _taking care of him_. Billy wanted. He wanted so _badly_.

“Okay,” Steve said, hands on his hips. “You’re sure you’ll be fine?” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s an hour.”

“A lot can happen in an hour,” Steve protested, glancing at his watch. He groaned and glanced at the door. “Fuck, I gotta get to my shift, stupid fucking _Keith_ \--” He let out a rush of air and gave Billy one last look. “Are you sure?”

“Christ, Harrington,” Billy drawled, “Max will be here and I’ll be _fine_.” They had made a system, Steve and Max, deciding that Billy needed to be watched over. Nevermind that he had been doing better, had been talking more, finally able to get his words out a majority of the time, and he was even thinking of starting to jog in the mornings. His doctor had recommended it, finally, and he wanted something to do. To at least _pretend_ he could run from his problems.

But Steve and Max were anxious and goddamn _worrywarts_ , so Steve had continued to move his shifts around so that when he left, Max would be arriving to spend time with Billy after school. It was spring semester, almost spring break, and soon she’d be able to spend more time with him and Steve could work more hours. It made Billy feel like a nuisance, despite how many times Steve told him he wasn’t. For now though, she’d have to leave to make it home for dinner.

He did _not_ think about his father.

Steve gave him one last worried look before nodding and heading out.

“I’ll be home right after work, okay? Unless you want me to pick up, like, a pizza or something?”

“Grab whatever, I’ll eat it.” Billy chewed on his bottom lip and listened to the sounds of Steve leaving, starting his car, and driving away.

Billy thought about his plan to start jogging and, before he could talk himself out of it, was headed out the door, spare key in his pocket. He’d just take one go around Loch Nora, which shouldn’t take him more than 45 minutes, and that was enough time to quickly shower before Max arrived. He started at a slow but steady pace, feeling something in his chest unfurl in the spring weather. It was _finally_ getting warmer, the air brisk and the sun glinting on the melting snow puddles. It was pretty in its own way, even if it didn’t hold to the ocean.

He smiled slightly and closed his eyes, feeling a little more like himself than he had in a long, long time. He jogged down the sidewalk, glad no one was out, and as he rounded the farthest corner, ready to make the final turn, he saw his father coming out of Mrs. Gardner’s house, smiling at her with that plastic face. Billy tripped over his own feet, barely keeping himself upright. He had to lean against a mailbox, unable to get his feet to move. He hadn’t seen his father in over a month now, maybe almost two. His dad hadn’t asked about him, had thrown out most of his stuff, though Max salvaged what she could, and now here he was. As the door closed and Neil turned away, smile melting off his face, he saw Billy. He froze as well, eyes sharp and dangerous.

“Son,” he said, voice dark. Billy felt himself begin to panic and tried to remember to breathe. He didn’t respond, didn’t look away, but he forced himself to move, to jog again. He felt his father’s eyes on his back until he disappeared behind the house on the corner. When he was out of sight, Billy stumbled and hid behind the bushes, glad that rich people loved large hedges. Through the leaves he saw his father’s truck make the turn, it’s pace slow, until his father seemed to give up and sped away. Because even though Billy wasn’t under his roof, his father would always want him under his thumb. Billy sat there, shaking, for a few minutes. When he could finally breathe again he stood and hopped the fences to get to the backyard. He didn’t trust the streets.

When he came around the side of the house, Max was there, ringing the doorbell frantically and pounding on the door. She did a double take when she saw him and ran over, face red with anger, but twisted in concern.

“Where were you?!”

“I wanted to go for a jog,” Billy replied, voice flat. His hands shook as he tried to put the key in the lock and Max gently took it, opening the door for them. She eyed him, knowing there was something he wasn’t saying. When he didn’t continue she tossed her backpack on the floor in the foyer and crossed her arms.

“And?” Billy couldn’t meet her eye.

“Neil was--” Max let out a strangled sound and slammed the door closed, locking it.

“Did he see you? Did he follow you? Billy, fuck!”

“Language,” he replied in a daze. Steve’s mothering tendencies were rubbing off on him. She pulled him into the living room and pulled the curtains.

“Okay, I’m going to ask you yes or no questions,” she said, voice trembling with restraint. “Can you handle that right now?”

“Yes.”

“Did he see you?” She sat him on the couch, going into the kitchen to get him some water.

“Yes,” Billy replied, hoping he was loud enough.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Yes. Son.”

“Did you say anything to him?” She set the water in front of him before sitting next to him on the couch, taking his hand.

“No.”

“Did he follow you?”

“No. Tried to. I hid.” Billy hated that just _seeing_ his father made him choke up, made the words feel stuck in his throat. He was so grateful for Max in that moment that he pulled her into a tight hug. He hadn’t done so much, if at all, since leaving the hospital. She froze, stiff and shocked, before gripping back, burying her face in his neck.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. Seeing his father had been jarring and upsetting, but he’d gotten away. Was 18 so his father couldn’t, and hopefully wouldn’t, do anything. He gripped Max tighter. “Will you be okay?” He was worried his father might have seen Max outside Steve’s and it was too much of a coincidence, them being in the same neighborhood, especially one this _rich_.

“I didn’t see his truck, but maybe I should go home early, just in case.” She sounded upset, like that was the last thing she wanted to do. “We should call Steve,” she said, pulling away. Billy jerked back, shaking his head.

“No, he doesn’t-- He’ll worry.” Billy didn’t want Steve to fret for his entire shift, which he _definitely_ would. “I don’t want to be a bother. It’s my fault for going out--”

“No,” Max snapped, cutting him off. “It’s not your fault.” Billy wouldn’t meet her eye and she stood, putting on _Dirty Dancing_. They had bonded over Patrick Swayze and it was a comfort movie for the two of them, as weird as it was. She threw herself against his side, making a space for herself, and Billy just wrapped an arm around her and let the movie play.

\--

“Billy!” Steve called as he came in, bag of sodas and breadsticks in one hand, pizza balanced in the other. “I brought home Hawaiian pizza!” It made him blush, calling it _their_ home, and since Billy wasn’t there, he let himself. His parents were out even more now that he was out of school, and more still after the Mall Incident. They didn’t want to deal with his nightmares and clinginess and if he had been a little selfish in asking Billy to stay, he would never admit it. He set the pizza down on the table in the kitchen and went into the living room, finding Billy with his arms around his knees, staring at a blue TV screen. It made his hairs stand on end. “Billy?” He jumped, like he hadn’t heard Steve come in, and the fear that flashed on his face broke Steve’s heart. “Hey, hey,” he said placatingly. “It’s just me.” Billy relaxed and nodded once, looking at the TV in shock like he hadn’t even noticed his movie end.

“Sorry I-- I lost track of time after Max left.” Steve smiled and held out his hand.

“I got Hawaiian, your favorite, you goddamn heathen.” Billy smiled a little, ducking his head. Steve’s breath hitched when he looked at him through his lashes, his eyes sad and grateful.

“You eat just as much of it as I do, you human garbage disposal,” he replied, taking Steve’s hand and pulling himself up. It was their _thing_. Steve pretended he hadn’t eaten Cheez-Whiz on undercooked macaroni noodles, and actually had _taste_ , and Billy let him. Plus, Steve could deny it all he wanted, but Billy knew he just didn’t want to admit the pineapple was _fucking good_.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve replied, something in his chest unclenching. Billy was joking so hopefully things were okay. “You and Max have a good time?” He pulled out a chair for Billy and missed the way he blushed.

“Yeah, watched _Dirty Dancing_.” Billy winced when Steve froze. He knew that they didn’t watch that unless one of them was having a rough day.

“Oh?” When Billy didn’t reply, just sat down and started shoving pizza into his face, Steve’s chest clenched right back up. “Billy?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “Just went for a jog and stressed myself out.” He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye, not that he _usually_ did.

“A jog?” Billy shrugged stiffly.

“Yeah. Doc said I could start some light exercising.” He opened one of the cans of coke, fiddling with the tab. Steve fidgeted before sitting down heavily, grabbing a slice to munch on. He watched Billy, who kept hunching lower and lower in his seat.

“So--”

“I saw Neil,” Billy grit out, like he didn’t want to say it. Steve dropped his pizza onto his pants, cursing and tossing it back into the box before moving to Billy’s side.

“Are you okay?” Billy shrugged.

“He didn’t do anything, though I think he tried to follow me, likes to keep tabs on people.” He sniffed and gave Steve a quick look, before once more averting his gaze. Steve hated it. Wanted Billy to _look at him_. Wanted Billy to know he would never be angry with _him_ , just wanted him to be _happy_. “Realistically I know he can’t really _do_ anything,” he said, voice soft, “But every time I see him I just--” He cut himself off and crossed his arms. Steve placed his hand on his knee, making Billy’s eyes snap over to him, a light flush on his cheeks.

“When did this happen?”

“After you left. Before Max got here.” Steve nodded, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. Billy hadn’t even _called_. “Sorry,” Billy whispered.

“For what?”

“Being such a fucking nuisance.” Before Steve could tell him that he _wasn’t_ , Billy continued, fingers digging into his sweater clad arm. “Mooching off of you because I can’t-- I’m so fucking useless and _stupid_.” Steve squeezed Billy’s knee, which for some reason, made his face twist even more. Steve removed his hand but it didn’t seem to help. “And now my dad-- I just want to be fucking _normal_.”

“Okay,” Steve said, licking his lips, “I’m gonna tell you something, okay? And I want you to just listen for a moment.” Billy nodded. Steve went back to his chair and wiped his hands on his pants, making a face when he got the tomato sauce he forgot to remove on one. “One, you’re not mooching. If anything, all of this is on my parents dime, and they aren’t gonna notice. Two, you’re not useless, or stupid.” Billy opened his mouth but Steve tutted him. “No, nope. You do chores without me asking and you had a fucking brain injury. You’re recovering and you’re doing so much better than anyone thought. Even Dr. Owens.” Billy blushed at that, smiling sadly. “And third,” Steve swallowed thickly and blushed, “You’re definitely not a nuisance. I offered up my place because-- Well, I have the room and the money to help so why wouldn’t I but--” He scratched the back of his head. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that my parents aren’t ever here. Not really.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, not sure where Steve was going.

“I’m really glad to help you but also, like, I kind of needed this too.” He picked at some fraying on his sleeve. “I don’t sleep much anymore, too many nightmares, and waking up to an empty house is--” He shrugged, throat getting tight. “I hate being alone,” he said quietly. He looked at Billy, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “I really like having you here.” Billy looked away and Steve kept talking because he needed Billy to know. Fuck it. “I mean, like, I _really_ like having you here.”

“Yeah?” Billy looked at him through his lashes again.

“Yeah,” Steve said, taking Billy’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Billy’s eyes went wide and his face went red and Steve felt the clenching in his chest loosen more. “And you’ll always have a place with me.” He wasn’t surprised when Billy leaned over and kissed him. Just smiled when he pulled back, his breath catching at the glint of happiness and hope in Billy’s eyes when he pulled away.

“I-- Is this--”

“I mean, if you really feel like a mooch, a smooch or two per day would be great payment,” Steve said teasingly. And when Billy laughed, looking more like himself than Steve had seen in months, he couldn’t help ducking in for a kiss of his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _how about something with #15 and #32, with lots of hurt!Billy?_  
>  #15 I can’t lose you. I just can’t. and #32 Angry Love Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood TW, some descriptions of wounds.
> 
> Steve and Billy are looking for dead trees and get more than they bargained for.

Steve gripped the bat in his hand, walking carefully through the trees. Billy was behind him, axe in hand, and the woods were still, too quiet, except for their breathing. Steve’s hand spasmed around the bat, clenching tightly as his hairs stood on end. That’s when the tree came into view. Steve approached it, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the smell. Billy gagged behind him.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “That shit never gets easier to smell. Fucking _disgusting_.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed absently. He pulled his walkie out of his back pocket. “Found one, over.” There was crackle and then Hopper’s voice was coming through.

“Whereabouts, over.”

“Maybe like 500 feet, uh, west?”

“North, pretty boy,” Billy drawled.

“North,” Steve corrected, giving Billy the finger. “North of the Garrison farmhouse, over.”

“Copy that. Don’t anything stupid if you see anything, over.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Weren’t you a boy scout?” Billy asked, smile teasing and cocky. It was fucking hot, especially with the axe slung over his shoulder, leather jacket over a white tank. Billy ran on hot, always warm to the touch, and Steve found himself wanting to press kisses along his collar bone. He looked back up at Billy’s face, huffing in annoyance.

“I’ve just never had a good sense of direction,” he replied, not bothering to answer that he’d always relied on a compass, because he _knew_ Billy would make fun of him for it.

“Come on,” Billy said. “I’ll lead us back, don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.”

“You’re such a–”

Before Steve could finish, there was an inhuman screech behind them. He turned, bat raised and swinging, knocking a demodog that was pouncing to the side.

“ _Fuck_!” Billy yelled. “Steve!” The demodog rolled and popped back up, shaking its head, before launching itself at Steve again.

“Shit!” Steve swung again, hitting its side. It went flying and Billy swung his axe as it landed by him, chopping into the side. The screech it let out was piercing, cutting through Steve and making his brain crumple in on itself. The demodog writhed away, the axe embedded into it, tugging it from Billy’s hands. Steve moved forward to help, but then the breath was knocked out of his lungs when another demodog tackled him to the ground.

“Steve!” Billy screamed, but Steve could barely hear him over the pounding of his heart in his ears. The bat was knocked from his hands and he brought his arms up, trying to protect himself. He wished he had had the chance to kiss Billy. To have at least _gone for it_ before dying in the woods. He waited for the bite. But the weight on top of him was suddenly gone, a scream cutting through the blood pulsing in his head and he sat up.

Billy was _wrestling_ the fucking thing. It flipped them, biting into his shoulder. Billy screamed in pain, kicking at the thing until he knocked it off of him. Steve scrambled to get up, grabbing his bat and running over. The demodog had just latched onto Billy’s calf, teeth shredding his jeans, when Steve swung the bat like a club. It went _flying_ into a tree, hitting with a sick crunch. But Steve was seeing fucking _red_ , like Billy’s blood, Billy’s _fucking blood_ –

“Harrington! It’s fucking dead!” Steve stopped, snapping back to reality. He stumbled, looking down and seeing the demodog. Or what was left. Most of the front was mashed beyond recognition and when he looked down he was _covered_ in goo. He almost dropped the bat, but before he could, he remembered Billy.

“Billy! You fucking–!” He ran over, keeping the bat close. Billy had scratches all along his torso, and his shoulder was bleeding sluggishly. The teeth had torn his jacket up, less than his jeans at least, but it had gotten a good grip. Billy’s shoulder looked almost like ground meat in some spots. Steve wanted to throw up but instead he grabbed Billy’s face, looking into his eyes. “Are you– Can you walk?” He let out a noise of frustration. “Of course you can’t. Fuck!”

“Harrington!” Billy snapped, breathing harshly through his nose. “Help me up and we can get the fuck out of here. We don’t know if there are any more of them.” Steve inhaled and nodded sharply, helping Billy up before grabbing the bat and situating himself so they had protection, but he could also help Billy walk.

The walk was tense and silent except for Steve’s harsh breathing, and Billy’s hisses of pain and grunts as he shifted wrong. Steve was _fuming_ , trying to keep himself calm, because now was not the time, but what the _fuck_ had Billy been thinking? Tackling and _wrestling_ a fucking demodog? Steve exhaled sharply and forced the thought out of his mind. He could think about that _later_ once they were _out of here_. Billy kept shooting him glances, growing more and more worried. Steve wanted to give him a reassuring smile but– _but–_

“Here,” Steve said quietly, helping BIlly into his car, leaning in to buckle him up. Billy said nothing, just watched him intently with those blue fucking eyes. Steve quickly got to the driver’s side and threw the car in reverse, buckling as he went. “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Harrington,” Billy sighed, “We’ve been through this. No hospitals.”

“Your shoulder looks like fucking _ground beef_ –”

“We’ll sew it up,” Billy grit out. “I can do it myself if I fucking have to.”

“No way,” Steve snapped. “If you won’t go to the hospital, you _will_ go to Mrs. Byers.” Billy grit his teeth, but said nothing. Steve took that as a when and turned, heading for the Byers.

–

“Oh my,” Joyce gasped. “Hop said you two were helping him look for trees but–”

“I lost the walkie in the woods,” Steve panted, helping Billy onto the couch. “I couldn’t reach him. But he– His _shoulder_ –” Joyce cut him off with a hand. She went to Billy and gently looked at his shoulder, ribs, and leg. Billy trembled and bit his lip to keep from making noise.

“Steve,” Joyce said, looking up, “I need you to grab my first aid kit from under the sink. Then I need you to get something for Billy to bite on.”

“I’ll be fine,” Billy grit out.

“Your poor teeth won’t,” Joyce chided. She looked at Steve who kicked it into gear, grabbing the kit and bringing it to Joyce. “Lighter?” She asked. Steve got his from his pocket and held it out to her. She cleaned the wound with alcohol and Steve removed his belt, remembering seeing someone use it to bite on in a movie once, and shoved it in Billy’s face. He looked so dumbfounded by it that he missed Joyce heating the needle, threading it, and beginning to sew up the tears in Billy’s skin.

“Fuck!” Billy cried, before biting down on Steve’s belt, clenching his eyes shut. Steve didn’t look, just held Billy’s hand as Joyce worked. Once she was done, she offered them a place to crash, but Steve declined.

“Just call Hopper for us?” He’d told her what happened, unable to take looking at Billy’s face twisted in pain for a _second_ longer. She nodded and sent them off.

When they got to Steve’s house, he set Billy up on the couch.

“I’m gonna grab an air mattress,” Steve mumbled, his anger starting to come back now that they were _home_. Now that they were _safe_. Billy watched him leave, silent. Steve had to count to ten a few times as he went to get the mattress. Once again, Billy had thrown himself into danger. Once again, he had disregarded his mortality and _thrown_ himself into danger. To protect Steve. He sneered a little and grit his teeth, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

Billy _always_ did this. Would attack the demodogs first, would pick fights with Tommy, would take _beatings_ from his father–

The first time that Billy had gotten involved, the dogs had been attacking in the junkyard. He’d arrived for Max, but then had seen Steve going to town on the fucking _monsters_ , and had just gone with it. Had grabbed a crow bar from the ground and started beating the nearest beast with fervor. Steve had momentarily been surprised, pausing, which gave an opening to a demodog. Billy had kicked it off and punched the thing in the face, over dramatic, but had finished the job with the crowbar.

Every time they went out, Billy threw himself into the fighting like it was all he was good for. Used himself as fucking _bait_ half the time. Did the same thing with the _human_ monsters in his life.

Steve slammed the closet door shut and stomped back to the living room, angrily shoving the cord for the pump into the wall. He could feel Billy watching him, could feel the tension rising, whirring like the air that pumped into the mattress. Steve angrily closed the opening once it was done, letting out a low growl when some air leaked out. It always did, but he was already pissed off–

“What did the air mattress ever do to you?” Billy’s voice was teasing, but strained. Like he couldn’t help teasing Steve, but knew that something was wrong. The fire that was burning low inside Steve fucking _burst_.

“What the fuck is your issue?” He snapped, whipping around to glare at Billy. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” Billy looked taken aback, eyes wide, lips parted.

“What?”

“Is this some sort of sick game to you?” Steve stalked over, furious. “That this is _funny_?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Harrington,” Billy grumbled, glaring at Steve like _he_ was the one being ridiculous.

“The fact that you could’ve been fucking killed tonight, Billy!” Said boy flinched back, and Steve was so angry, but not enough to not know that looming was something Billy couldn’t deal with, so he backed up, running his hand through his hair. He began pacing. “The fact that you always throw yourself at whatever fucking thing is hurting us like you dying _doesn’t matter_.”

“Does it?” Steve gaped at him. “This is the only time I’ve ever been a useful part of something. All my life I’ve been a fucking dickhead who– who can’t get over his father’s bullshit! You though, you–”

“Okay okay,” Steve said, holding up a hand. “Get over your father’s bullshit? I’m not gonna say you were like, great at handling your anger, but you don’t just get over that shit! And you don’t go throwing yourself into danger because you think you deserve it!”

“I–”

“And you always put me on this fucking pedestal!” Steve threw his hands up, unable to stop the mean laugh that burst out of him. “Like I’m some fucking hero! I’m not!”

“I know that!” Billy snapped. “Fuck you!”

“Then _why_ –”

“Because I _can’t lose you_ ,” Billy yelled, voice cracking. He sank back into the couch, crumpling into himself. Steve gaped at him, blinking owlishly. “I just can’t,” Billy whispered into his hands, covering his face. “And you– You don’t even _get it_.” Steve’s heart beat fast and his mouth was dry. “If you– If you die,” Billy said, voice trembling, “I have fucking _nothing_.”

“What–”

“Fuck!” Billy hit the pillows next to him, wincing when it made his stitches pull. Steve was at a loss for words, unable to look anywhere but Billy. Billy and his _pretty boy_ and _baiting Tommy_ and–

“You– You–” He stammered, trying to fit the pieces together. Like everything was right in front of him but he had a piece turned the wrong way.

“Fuck this,” Billy mumbled. He moved to lay down and Steve’s anger rose again.

“No.” Billy’s eyes snapped over to him, narrowed. “ _No_ ,” Steve repeated. “You don’t just get to say that shit to me and then act like it doesn’t _mean_ anything–”

“Just forget–”

“Forget? Are you fucking joking?”

“Harrington–”

“You just told me you throw yourself into shit without thinking because you, what, you don’t wanna lose me?” Billy grit his teeth and scowled at the coffee table. “Have you ever thought that maybe _I_ don’t want to lose _you_?” Steve felt his lungs getting tight as his breath became shorter. “That maybe seeing you throw yourself at shit that will _get you killed_ makes my heart stop? Makes me feel like _I’m_ about to die? I–” Steve gulped for air as angry tears started to spill down his cheeks. “Do you not see? Do you not see how much I fucking love you?” Billy stared at him, eyes wide, looking younger than he ever had. “I need you too. You can’t just– You can’t–” His voice wavered and he wiped angrily at his eyes. Billy hadn’t moved, just kept staring, dumbstruck. “Shit,” Steve hissed. “Shit!”

“You love me?” Billy’s voice was soft, quiet, and so unlike him that it pulled Steve back to reality. He looked at him and Billy– Billy–

He looked awed, happy, and nervous all at once and the final puzzle piece shifted and Steve saw it.

“I love you so much, it drives me crazy,” Steve breathed. “It scares me sometimes, just how much I’d do for you.” Billy began to struggle to get up, yelping when he moved his arm wrong.

“Ow! Shit!”

“Don’t!” Steve said, rushing over and touching Billy everywhere he could. Making sure he was there, _alive_ , now that his anger was fading. “Why were you even trying to get up?”

“I couldn’t kiss you while you were all the way over there,” Billy replied, pulling Steve in by his collar, and kissing him so tenderly, so _lovingly_ , that just for a moment, Steve’s world stopped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _heyyy uhhhh can i get a #43 with a side of #3 and umm, can I add on some insercurites for free? how much? all my love and appreciation?? dang I've already maxed out my card but you can have my heart..._  
>  **#43. Comfort after a fight** and **#3 "I hate you." "Please don't say that."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some boys talking out their issues. I'm probably going to end up rewriting this one eventually cuz I'm not a huge fan of it.

Steve watched as Billy leaned against the lifeguard tower, finger twirling one of Casey’s curls, making her blush. He sunk lower on the plastic lounger, glaring through his sunglasses. It wasn’t like he thought Billy was _really_ into her. But still. It made his heart clench and his stomach all queasy whenever Billy flirted with someone else.

Steve knew he wasn’t bad to look at. That he was pretty cute. But after Nancy and the tunnels and _everything_ , he’d kind of lost his appeal or something. Girls didn’t flirt with him, like, ever. And it wasn’t like he was _looking_ for their attention, but it would have been _nice_. To get confirmation you weren’t fucking hideous. Because Billy was _gorgeous_.

Like made Steve sweat the first time he saw him gorgeous. Like, model gorgeous. Like a fucking _sun god_ , all tan skin, freckles, and muscles that Steve just wanted to run his tongue along, to bite and fawn over–

Steve groaned quietly and pushed his sunglasses up, pressing the meat of his palms to his eyes.

They’d talked about it before. Talked about how Steve didn’t need to worry, but sometimes he didn’t know _why_ Billy was doing, well, _whatever_ it was they were doing, besides the obvious _us both knowing about monsters_ thing. Nothing like shared trauma. Maybe it was because he was the only other guy in town who was okay having another guy’s dick in his mouth. Steve sighed and grabbed his stuff, catching Dustin’s attention.

“What?” He asked, coming over.

“You guys want pizza and ice cream? On me.” Dustin perked up and grinned.

“Hell yeah! Can’t see why anyone would say no to that!” He went back over the The Party, gesturing animatedly. They cheered and Steve ignored the way Billy’s eyes darted over and didn’t leave him until he was walking out the gate.

–

Steve fidgeted with the remote, hating himself and hating Billy and hating _Hawkins_. He hadn’t heard anything from Billy, even though they _supposedly_ had plans tonight. Well, they had their usual _It’s Friday let’s get wasted and fool around_ thing. At least, he _thought_ they did. What a fucking chump. He scrubbed at his eyes, ignoring the pit in his stomach when the clock hit 1 in the morning. Ignoring that Billy should have been here 3 hours ago.

Steve had _really_ thought things were getting better. Billy had been staying the night, been staying for _breakfast_ , and it had made Steve yearn for something domestic. He wanted to spend every morning dressed in his underwear and one of Billy’s shirts, making them omelettes. Give him his coffee, just the way he likes it. Have Billy pull him down for a kiss that’s barely a kiss because they’re both smiling.

And then he ignored Steve for 3 days.

So Steve had gone to the pool.

And there was Billy. And _Casey_.

Billy had ignored him the whole time.

And now here he was, somehow still under the impression that Billy might have come over for their usual Friday hangout. That maybe Steve could pretend for a little bit that he mattered to _someone_. That _one fucking person_ wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to be around him _just because_.

He wiped at the tears welling in his eyes and stood up, accepting that it was time to call it a night. As he passed by the front door to head up the stairs, someone began pounding on it. Steve let out a bitten off shriek and clutched at his chest. Whoever was there wasn’t bothered by the noise, just kept pounding away. Steve licked his lips and grabbed the bat he kept by the door. Regular. No nails. He got it ready and swung the door open, ready for –

Billy Hargrove. Drunk as a fucking _skunk_. Falling forward with the momentum of his fist, eyes wide. Steve caught him and stumbled back, dropping the bat.

“What the fuck?” Steve said, his voice flat. Billy gripped the front of Steve’s shirt and pulled himself up, eyes bloodshot.

“ _Steve_ ,” Billy slurred. “You’re awake.” His eyes were wide, like he was shocked, and he didn’t pull away, keeping his face close to Steve’s.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, wrinkling his nose because Billy’s breath _reeked_. “Waited up for you.” Billy rested his forehead in the crook of Steve’s neck and brought his arms up, pulling Steve closer. Steve couldn’t help himself, he was so fucking _starved_ for attention, and he let Billy cling to him, wrapping his own arms around his waist.

“Thought you would,” he hiccuped, “Wouldn’t wanna see me.” Steve sighed.

“Can’t say I’m thrilled you showed up 3 hours late and drunk,” he said, because he shouldn’t be happy Billy came like this, but he is. He’s happy he came _at all_. And how fucking sad was that.

“I didn’t wan-wanna _intrude_ on your time with the nerds.”

“Too busy with Casey?” Steve snapped. He felt Billy stiffen against him. Watched him pull back and level Steve with an annoyed look.

“Fuck does that mean?” He grumbled. Steve rolled his eyes, suddenly so fucking _angry_ because Billy didn’t even _notice_. Didn’t even fucking _care_.

“It means,” Steve bit out, “That you can just tell me if you wanna fuck other people.” Billy looked at him like he was making no sense, which just irked Steve more. “You don’t have to, to let me down gently, okay? I can take it.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“Oh my god!” Steve finally pulled all the way away from Billy, wrapping his arms around himself and hunching over, trying to make himself smaller. “Just leave.” He didn’t look at Billy, scared that he might cry, over Billy _fucking_ Hargrove.

“Is this,” Billy began, speaking slowly, sounding a bit more sober now, “About the flirting?”

“Is this about–” Steve scoffed and shook his head.

“Seriously? You’re worked up over harmless flirting?” Billy sounded annoyed and Steve felt like fucking _shit_. Felt tears welling up because he was an _idiot_.

“Fuck you,” he said, voice watery. “I fucking– I’m _worked up_ ,” he spit out, “Because you ignored me for 3 days. Because when I wanted to talk to you, you fucking, fucking _laughed_ in my face.” He scrubbed at his eyes, wishing he wasn’t crying over Billy _goddamn_ Hargrove. “Because you apparently can’t even bear to be my friend in public.” He laughed, the noise twisting into an aborted sob at the end. “I’m worked up because I was actually convinced for like, a little while, that you _cared_ about me. That this wasn’t some fucking distraction from the _bullshit_. That it maybe _meant_ something.” Steve still hadn’t looked at Billy, who had been quiet the whole time. “You know, sometimes, I fucking _hate_ you.” Steve was surprised at the sharp inhale of breath and looked up, shocked to see Billy quickly rubbing at his eyes. He glared at the floor and licked his lips.

“Please–” he stammered. “Please don’t say that.” Steve was thrown for a loop. Billy using please? Billy looking upset? Billy being anything other than his usual _I’m too cool to care about anyone or anything_ self?

“What,” Steve said, monotone.

“I–” Billy swallowed and shut his eyes tightly, like he also couldn’t look at Steve while he was vulnerable. Like he _was_ vulnerable. “I– I got scared.” He swallowed, eyes still closed. “When you– You’re just so–”

“What,” Steve repeated.

“In the morning,” Billy said. “When you smile at me, and it’s all soft and _just for me,_ I just–” He licked his lips and wiped over his mouth harshly. “I want that. I got scared because I want it so much and you just…” He stopped, words trailing off like he’d already pried out what he could. Steve couldn’t do anything more than stare, mouth open in a small ‘o.’

“So why–”

“I wanted you to hate me,” Billy said. “I wanted you to hate me because then I wouldn’t ruin it. I wouldn’t ruin _you_ and you could go back to your life before I inevitably fucked this up. But,” he let out a shuddery breath, “But hearing you say it… I don’t– I don’t want you to–”

“I don’t,” Steve replied, probably too fast. “I don’t hate you.”

“You should,” Billy whispered. Steve didn’t know how to respond, so instead, he took Billy’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. Made him an instant coffee and got him a glass of water. They sat in silence, neither looking at the other, until Steve cleared his throat.

“So, you really aren’t into Casey?” Billy let out a shocked laugh and shook his head.

“How is that what you’re focused on,” he muttered. “No, I’m not. My dad knows when I’m not, well, fucking around. Knows that means I found _someone_.”

“What the fuck?” Billy shrugged.

“I’m good at pretending, Harrington, but I’m not like you. I don’t like girls. Sex is nice enough but they don’t _really_ do it for me. We left San Diego because my dad figured that out. And he always asks who I’m meeting when I go on dates, always makes sure he knows where I am–”

“Seriously, what the _fuck_!” Billy shrugged again, staring into his mug.

“I don’t flirt because I want to,” he said, voice soft. “I do it because I _have_ to. Because he doesn’t ask me where I go every Friday anymore.” Steve felt like shit _again_ , but now for a whole _new_ reason.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Billy said. “I should have told you. Don’t know that I ever would have if you didn’t push me. If I wasn’t still fucking drunk right now.” He finally, finally looked at Steve, and Steve was surprised at just how tired he looked. “You told me how it made you feel, and I couldn’t even–” He looked away again.

“It did kind of feel like shit,” Steve said. He backtracked when Billy hunched in on himself. “But it was also because I was a little jealous. That like, you even _could_ flirt.” Billy raised a brow, confused. “It’s stupid,” Steve said, blushing, “But you’re like, like a fucking adonis? Shut up,” he said when Billy snickered. “And like, I know I’m not like, _ugly_ or anything, but I’m not anything special, so I just–”

“Not anything special?” Billy asked, looking confused again. “Are you kidding me?” Steve flushed and looked away, frowning.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Steve muttered.

“No, no,” Billy said, grabbing Steve’s hand. “You–” Billy looked at a loss for words. For once. “The minute I saw you I couldn’t– I couldn’t think about anything except the fact that I wanted to suck your dick.” Steve rolled his eyes but smiled a little. “Seriously, Harrington. The minute I finally _saw_ that dick?” Billy shook his head. “A goner. Wanted to fucking _choke_ on it.”

“Billy,” Steve sighed, smiling a little more. “You don’t–”

“I’m not going to stop until you remember that you’re hot as fuck, okay?” Billy looked away, a blush creeping across his face and down his neck. “I get lost in your eyes sometimes,” he mumbled. “They’re so open and kind and _deep_.” He looked back at Steve and brought his hand up to Steve’s face. “When you’re asleep I see how many moles I can count.” He cupped his jaw, thumb rubbing a gentle circle on Steve’s cheek. “It hurts to look at you sometimes,” Billy whispered, eyes glazed over. “Especially when you smile at me. When you’re shining so bright and I just–” He leaned forward, pulling Steve into a gentle, but thorough, kiss. Steve kissed back, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

“Billy,” he choked out, lips still pressed against Billy’s.

“You’re so _good_ , Steve,” Billy said in a rush. “Please, _please_ forgive me for making you feel like you weren’t– You know that I–” Steve cut him off with a kiss, letting Billy’s tongue swirl around his before pulling back, breath short.

“We should maybe talk about things a little more,” he mumbled, smile wet from tears, but still light. Billy smiled a little.

“Maybe.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I have an idea if you're interested in hearing about it!❤ Some pre relationship angst, I think. Basically Steve is driving home late one night in the pouring rain and hits a disassociating Billy with his car and finds himself trying to help because he's a nice guy. Just an idea, though!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Car accident (though small), descriptions of disassociation and child neglect.  
> This was an interesting prompt and I hope I did it justice. Though I did end up forgetting the rain.

Steve was driving aimlessly, unable to sleep. Again. Ever since Star Court, almost a year ago now, and honestly since the tunnels, he’d been fucking _haunted_ any time he closed his eyes. The sounds of the demodogs, the sound of the Flayer, the fucking _smell_. He couldn’t escape it.

So now he drove. Through Hawkins, around Hawkins, outside of Hawkins, as far as he could go. Steve just _drove_. Tonight, he was driving around town, just watching the shadows. The windows were down, letting the warm, humid summer air in. He could turn on his A/C, but it was nice feeling the heat. Especially after–

Something moved in front of his car and he slammed on the breaks. He jerked to a stop with a gasped _what the fuck_ , but there was an undeniable, though small, thump. Then there was a louder thump when the shadow slammed something on the hood of the beamer.

Steve felt like he might throw up.

He got out of the car on shaky legs, his stomach rolling, and made his way to the front. When he saw what the shadow was, Steve was sure he was hallucinating.

Billy Hargrove stood there, unmoving, unblinking, just staring at where he had his hands placed on the hood of Steve’s car.

“Oh my god what?” Steve breathed, rubbing at his eyes. Billy didn’t respond, just turned his head and looked at Steve, eyes blank.

The last time he had seen Billy was when he helped bring him home from the hospital. His father hadn’t offered and, apparently, hadn’t told Max and Susan that Billy was going to be released. So the hospital had called, Max had picked up, and had then called Steve, all anger and tears. And, well, Billy had _saved_ them. Had apparently been really quiet and withdrawn and Max was adamant that he was way less of an asshole. And he had been, but it was because he wasn’t _talking_. He’d grumbled a thanks to Steve, had responded to Max with short and abrupt sentences, but other than that, spent his time looking out the window. It was weird and had made Steve’s stomach twist.

Billy’s hair was longer now than it had been. Still short, but it was starting to curl around his ears, all soft and cherubic. He was still thin and hunched over, taking up as little space as he could. But his eyes–

His eyes looked empty, almost. Like he was lost inside himself.

“Billy?” Steve tried, nervous to move closer. Because the Flayer was gone, they _knew_ that, but Billy was being _weird_. Once again, he didn’t respond, just kind of stared at Steve. They stared at each other for a moment before Steve moved slightly closer. Billy didn’t react. “Hey are you okay?” He reached out, touching the back of his palm to Billy’s forehead instinctively.

“Sorry,” Billy said, voice shaky and rough, like he didn’t use it a lot. Or like he had been yelling. Steve wasn’t sure if there was a better option between the two.

“What?” Steve shook his head. “I’m the one who hit you with my car– Shit are you okay?!” He gave Billy a once over, grabbing at him to feel for soft spots. Billy let him, body slightly limp. “Does this hurt?” Steve asked, pressing by Billy’s hip. Billy shook his head. “This?” Steve tried again, this time by his ribs. There were no tears in Billy’s clothes, so he wasn’t even sure _where_ he had been hit.

“Can’t feel it,” Billy murmured, voice flat. Steve looked up, hands wrapped around Billy’s rib cage.

“Like it’s gone numb or…?”

“Can’t feel anything,” was the response. Steve pulled away, furrowing his brow. He wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” Billy shook his head. “Home?” Billy made a strange choking sound and shook his head more aggressively. It was the most he’d responded to Steve the whole time. Steve bit his lip, not sure what to do. “The police?” Billy crumpled a little, using the car to keep himself upright. Instinctively, Steve reached out to help. “Whoa! Okay,” he said, voice tight, “No police. You can’t stay out here, dude.”

“Nowhere else,” Billy replied. Something uncomfortable tightened in Steve’s chest.

“We’ll go to my place.” The only response he got was a shrug, which was better than nothing, so Steve helped haul Billy, who was still staring blankly ahead and moving limply, into the car.

As he drove, Steve wondered why Billy was out at this time of night. It was almost 2 now, and Billy was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a ratty old UC Berkeley sweater. A look for a night in, not wandering the streets. Steve’s fingers tapped on his thigh as he drove, wanting to ask questions, but not sure that Billy would answer. He hadn’t stopped staring out the front window, eyes and face blank, like he was there, physically, but far away mentally. It was so far away from the Billy Steve had known, he was almost like a different person. A shell of who he was.

When they arrived at his house, Steve helped Billy out of the car. Billy seemed to have retreated more into himself, which was kind of the opposite of what Steve was going for, so he did what he did best. He rambled.

“I should have been paying more attention to the road, but I mean, it’s past midnight in Hawkins. I didn’t think anyone would be out there.” Billy didn’t respond, just followed Steve inside his house. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? I hit you with my _car_ , man. I guess it wasn’t hard since you were still upright but, _fuck_.” Steve gasped a little for air, the weight of the situation starting to crash on him. “I’m so sorry,” he wheezed, looking into Billy’s eyes. Something flickered in Billy’s gaze and his eyes narrowed a little in thought. “I’m sorry I hit you with my car. Like, twice now, oh my god.”

“It’s,” Billy paused, looking uncertain, “Okay.” Steve gave him an incredulous look.

“It’s not okay. It’s not.” Billy didn’t respond to that, looking uncomfortable. Neither of them spoke, just stood awkwardly in the main hall.

“Am I–” Billy said, voice cutting through the silence, “Am I dreaming?” Steve raised a brow.

“Huh? No?” Billy’s face crumpled a little and he leaned heavily against Steve’s wall, sliding down to the floor. “Billy?”

“I know I’m dreaming. None of this is real.” His voice was stronger now, but still shaky. Panic formed in Steve’s gut. He wasn’t a doctor, but this didn’t seem normal. Didn’t seem _right_.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said, voice soft and gentle. “This is real. I’m right here in front of you.” Billy shook his head and clenched his eyes shut. “I _am_ ,” Steve insisted.

“That’s why it’s not _real_ ,” Billy said, voice cracking. “You’re never around anywhere else.” Steve suddenly felt guilty and confused. It wasn’t like they had been friends before, but it wasn’t like Steve didn’t also owe his life to Billy. He could have said thank you, at least. But it was confusing, the way Billy said it. Like Steve was often around in his dreams.

He tucked that away for later; the night had been exciting enough.

“I never said it, but thank you, Billy.” Blue eyes locked onto his. “Those kids wouldn’t be alive without you and you,” he let out a sad laugh, “You didn’t get anything for it.” He slid down next to Billy, not looking at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I expected after you recovered. We didn’t exactly part on good terms. But I should have come to thank you, regardless.” When he looked at Billy, he was squinting at him, confused. “What?”

“That’s not what you usually say,” he replied. He blinked once, twice, then rapidly for a moment, almost like waking up. For what felt like the first time tonight, he focused on Steve. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we?” Steve furrowed his brow.

“My house.”

“Why?”

“What– Why?” Steve spluttered. Billy watched him carefully before flushing and looking away.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“Billy?” Steve said, tilting his head.

“I sometimes,” he licked his lips, “The doctors call it, dissociating.” He picked at the frayed sleeve of his hoodie. “I kind of disconnect from reality for a bit,” he said, stating it like he was reading it off a sheet of paper, memorized in word only. “Usually when I, well, come back, I don’t remember it.” He shifted and winced, hissing in pain. “Fuck, why does my leg fucking hurt?” Steve flushed and reached for his pants. “Harrington?” Billy asked, voice creeping up in pitch. Steve checked his calf and saw the beginnings of a bruise at the bottom of Billy’s knee.

“I hit you with my car. You didn’t even feel it?” It made sense, but _fuck_.

“I don’t always feel things when I’m out of it,” Billy replied, voice tight. Steve gently touched the bruise around his knee and heard Billy exhale sharply through his nose.

“Does that hurt?” Steve looked up, face drawn together with concern, but Billy didn’t look like he was in pain. Maybe like he was freaking out a bit.

“You hit me with your car?” Billy asked, his voice still tight and stressed. He was staring at where Steve still had his hand cupped around his knee. Steve pulled back with a blush.

“Yeah, uh, you kinda came outta the shadows and I didn’t break quite it time.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Did, uh, did you want me to call the cops now? You didn’t earlier when I asked, but I mean obviously–”

“No,” Billy replied sadly with a shake of his head. “I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine. I mean,” he chuckled humorlessly, “What are they gonna do?” Steve furrowed his brow, unable to answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Harrington,” Billy said, voice laced with exhaustion. “No one is gonna care. I’m still alive,” and _wow_ did he sound unhappy about that, “So what is there to do?”

“I don’t– I mean–”

“Lemme get outta your hair.” Billy began to stand, wincing when his movements were stiffer than expected. Steve helped him up, grabbing his elbow, but didn’t move away and didn’t let go.

“You said you had nowhere else to go,” Steve whispered. Billy paled and licked his lips. “Stay.” Unsure ice blue eyes locked onto his and it made Steve’s breath hitch. Neither of them spoke, just staring into each other’s eyes.

It wasn’t the first time Steve had noticed how beautiful Billy was, how handsome, but it was the first time he’d been almost overwhelmed by it. Taken in by his eyes, the cut of his jaw, the very small smattering of freckles. Steve realized he missed seeing them fan across Billy’s nose, skin kissed by the sun.

“Okay,” Billy replied, voice hoarse. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I've gotta harringrove request if you are still doing those? I do this all the time and thought it would be hilarious for steve and billy but where they are in class (science, english whatever) and fixate on this phrase that is in no one funny but just can't stop laughing and repeating it to each other until they are both kicked out of class together._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the _dumbest_ thing I've ever written and I love it so much.  
> Shout out to my friend and coworker whom the internet named Snail for the inspo.

Billy collapsed onto the stool next to Steve, huffing in annoyance when Steve didn’t immediately look up from whatever he was doodling in his notebook.

“What are you even up to, pretty boy?” Billy asked, annoyed that he wanted attention and annoyed Steve wasn’t _giving_ it to him. Steve looked up, almost like he hadn’t noticed Billy arrive, before smiling and pushing his notebook over a little. Billy leaned over to look and frowned. “A snail?” He squinted and frowned more. “Is it wearing… shoes?”

“He’s wearing snoos!” Steve exclaimed happily. Billy looked at him expectantly, because what the fuck. “Snail shoes!”

“Snail shoe–!” Billy choked off a surprised laugh. Steve pouted slightly, puffing his cheeks.

“Yeah so he can go on his snalk.”

“And that’s?”

“Snail walk,” Steve replied with a grin. Billy put his head in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Okay where the fuck did you hear about this, what fucking site did Freckles show you now–”

“I’ll have you know it was Heather who showed me this–”

“Yeah, and where do you think _she_ found out about it–”

“How can you be mad about a _snail_ –”

“Gentlemen.” Billy and Steve froze, eyes snapping to their teacher. Mrs. Morton stood with her arms crossed, her eyes sharp as she looked down her nose at them, glasses perched on the tip. “Are you done bickering or may I start the class now?” Billy gave her a cheeky grin and licked his top teeth, getting an eye roll, while Steve flushed in embarrassment. When they kept quiet, she nodded and went back to the front. “Alright, now if you would open your books to page 74…” Billy immediately blocked out her voice and looked at Steve. His bangs were falling into his face as he kept doodling in his notebook, science book open next to him, unread. His long fingers gripped the pencil and Steve’s soft, pink tongue poked out from between his teeth as he concentrated. Billy felt his neck getting hot and decided that he didn’t particularly care about science today.

“Hey Harrington,” he whispered. He got a quiet hum in response as Steve tilted his head towards Billy, not taking his eyes off his drawings. “Can I borrow your snotes?” That got him a snicker. “What? Don’t wanna help out your snoyfriend?” Steve’s shoulders shook and he shot Billy a look.

“Shut up,” Steve hissed, a giggle making its way out. Billy licked his lips. He wanted to hear that again. He nudged Steve’s knee with his.

“Can I come over to your snouse later?” Silence. “We could snudy.” Steve bit his bottom lip. “Or snake out.” Billy grinned as Steve’s cheeks turned red. “Or–”

“Mr. Hargrove,” Mrs. Morton snapped. “Are you done distracting Mr. Harrington?” Billy flushed slightly but shrugged it off and made a show of opening his book and turning to the correct page. She stared him down, eyes narrowed, and he smiled at her, all teeth. Finally, she went back to teaching.

“Looks like someone got in snouble,” Steve whispered, making Billy bite his bottom lip painfully and clench his fingers into his jeans. He shot him a look and regretted it. Steve was smiling, sly and smug, but so _happy,_ and it made Billy’s heart clench. Steve went back to doodling, though not before sending Billy a wink. It didn’t take long for Billy to try again.

“Well?” He whispered. “You didn’t answer me.”

“I gotta take Dustin home,” Steve mumbled. “But I don’t have any plans for dinner.”

“Well, I have an idea for dinner,” Billy said slowly, his hand slipping onto Steve’s thigh. He inhaled sharply and his eyes snapped to Billy’s quickly, then back to his notebook. He didn’t stop him. Billy leaned in, smirking. “And a plan for dessert.” Mrs. Morton had her back turned, and they were in the back, so Billy leaned in farther, lips drawing close to Steve’s ear as his hand slid up, resting in the crevice between Steve’s thigh and his groin. He was tense beneath Billy’s hand and he whispered into Steve’s ear, voice hushed and throaty, just the way Steve liked, “ _I want to snuck your snock._ ”

Steve let out an aborted squawk and Billy pulled back, innocent look on his face, as Mrs. Morton turned around, eyes fiery.

“Gentlemen!” She snapped. Steve was still struggling to stop laughing, but Billy just held up his hands in mock defense. “Is class not entertaining enough for you?” Steve just covered his mouth, looking down. Billy gave his best hangdog look, which was entirely ineffective. “One more outburst and you will lose the privilege of getting to learn today!”

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied, Steve’s voice airy and stressed as he reigned in his giggles. Billy didn’t wait long this time, leaning over and whispering,

“Then you can snuck me in the snass.” Steve let out a choked peal of laughter that sounded like a car engine grinding, covering his head with his hands as he pressed his face into the desk. Mrs. Morton slammed her book on her desk, face twisted with fury.

“That’s it!” She yelled. “Out of my classroom! Both of you!” The class watched, tittering with laughter and whispers as they gathered their stuff and left, Steve still letting out little chirps of laughter that made Billy want to kiss him. His cheeks were red and his smile was so wide and bright, eyes watery from laughing so hard, and Billy licked his lips, shooting Mrs. Morton a wink as they walked out. She just frowned deeper and pointed at the door. Steve punched his shoulder after a few steps, though he was still smiling.

“Fuck you, Billy!”

“What? Couldn’t snake it?”

“Oh my god! You’re so _obnoxious_ , you sutpid turd.” Steve rolled his eyes but laced his fingers with Billy’s and pulled him to the bleachers. They went to their spot under them, a nice hidden place, and Billy lit a cigarette. Steve watched him smoke, occasionally stealing the cig for a puff. Billy couldn’t help the small smile on his face, breathlessly happy. He felt Steve watching him and when he looked up his heart started to pound. Steve was staring at him, an awed look on his face.

“What?” Billy asked.

“I… I snove you,” Steve stammered out. He flushed, face scrunched in embarrassment, and Billy tried to process the fact that his boyfriend had just said ‘I love you’ for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice more even than he had expected it to be. “Did you just say you loved me for the first time by putting _snail_ in front of it?”

“No?”

“I snove you too, baby.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _#41 and #11 but they are playing straight in front of the other guests (?)_   
>  **#41 Spin the Bottle and #11 "You call that a kiss?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be fluff and then angst knocked on the door and shoved it's way in!  
> TW for the f slur and some more homophobic language.

Steve was on the couch, watching the party around him as he nursed his drink. It was almost spring break now, and he had started to go back to parties. Mostly because Billy still loved parties and since Steve and Billy were _friends_ , Steve went. Wasn’t harassed by Tommy with Billy there. Well, not as much. He was still sour over the fact that Steve had dumped him and Carol, been easy pickings, and then suddenly usurped Tommy’s role as Billy’s right hand man. And he made sure Steve knew it.

But free booze and drugs were free booze and drugs, and Steve was still stressed from last fall. Stressed about school. Stressed about _Billy_.

He and Billy had been fooling around for a few months now. It had started around Christmas when they both found themselves at the Quarry. They’d been on better terms since the tunnels, forming a sort of friendship, and then that night, after drinking whiskey to keep warm, Billy had kissed him. Steve hadn’t known until it happened how much he had been _wanting_ it to happen. Hadn’t realized that _that_ was what those feelings were. Had kissed back ferociously and sloppily, until they had parted, panting and red lipped. Since then, they’d continued, unable to keep their hands off each other for too long.

It was hard though, of course. School was easier with them being friends now, but even so, Billy had never been overly affectionate with anyone, and it would have been noticeable if he’d been different with Steve. So they were _careful_. And the ways it could go wrong, especially for _Billy_ , made Steve worry.

He was lost in thought when there was some shouting from the den. Steve stood, pushing through the slightly smaller crowd, to find a circle of teens with a bottle in the middle. He snorted, rolling his eyes a little. He thought this game had stopped being cool, but there was no limit to what drunks found entertaining. Steve spotted Billy, being forced into the circle by Krissy, and it made him prickle with jealousy. He sat between Tammy and Lucy, not about to idly watch Billy kiss girls. They met eyes across the circle and Billy raised a brow. Steve just shrugged, but Billy knew him too well, and he got that smug smirk he always got when Steve made it apparent how clingy he was. Billy was into it, luckily enough.

“I’ll start!” Carol called, spinning the empty beer bottle. It landed on some dude from the football team, and Tommy frowned when they kissed. The game continued, boring and kind of annoying, until Tammy landed on Nicole and all the guys cheered, chanting for them to kiss. The girls played it up, using obvious tongue and moaning obnoxiously. Steve thought he would have been into it, probably would have been before Nancy and _everything_ , but they were so obnoxious, it made his insides squirm in a bad way. Billy just looked bored.

After that, the game carried on simply enough until Steve, who had gotten a simple peck from Stacey, spun the bottle, and it landed on Billy. The room quieted, many sets of eyes darting between the two. They met eyes across the circle, Billy’s smirk growing, and Steve turned bright red.

“Come on!” Tammy called. “We did it!”

“Yeah!” Nicole agreed. “Do it! Do it!” The boys in the room looked decidedly uncomfortable, but they were playing it by ear. If Billy didn’t care, they wouldn’t care. At least outwardly. Billy cracked his neck and leered at Steve.

“Well, well King Steve,” he said, tongue flicking across his top teeth as his eyes glinted dangerously. Steve tried to subtly adjust himself. “We gonna give the ladies what they ask for? Or are you chicken?” Steve rolled his eyes, but smirked before he leaned across the circle and pecked Billy on the lips. There was a tittering from the crowd and Tammy yelled,

“You seriously call that a kiss?” Steve locked eyes with Billy again, a fire churning low in his gut. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ wanna kiss Billy; of fucking course he did. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to do it _right here right now_. Especially when Billy was looking at him _like that_.

Billy gave him a quirk of the brow, one Steve had come to recognize as _Do you trust me?_ And Steve did. So he let Billy yank him in, smile wide and devious, before shoving his tongue into Steve’s mouth. He bit back a moan, doing his best to make it look like he was only _pretending_ to enjoy threading his fingers in Billy’s hair. The noise around them stuttered to a stop, silence sweeping in until they pulled apart, panting and red lipped. There was a beat before Steve gave a small quirk of the lips, and held out his hand.

“Not bad, Hargrove,” he said, letting the cockiness King Steve had worn as his crown out just a bit. Billy’s eyes flashed and he licked his lips obscenely.

“Next time tug on my hair a little harder,” he replied with a wink. The room erupted into noise. The girls were staring, eyes wide, smiles big, obviously pleased with the show they got. The boys were trying to act like they didn’t care, but were obviously not expecting either of them to have gone through with it. But no one wanted to look lame in front of _Mr. California_.

Billy settled back and rested his hand on Krissy’s knee. It helped Steve’s chub go down, but it also made his stomach twist. It’s what needed to happen. Rationally, he knew that. But fuck. _Fuck_ he wanted to fucking shove his tongue down Billy’s throat without anyone making a fuss. Without fucking _fear_. Without having to make it a fucking _joke_.

“I mean, it’s a little gay though, dude,” Steve heard Mark say. “Like, kissing another guy?”

“Get your panties untwisted,” Billy grumbled around the cigarette he was lighting. “Shit only means shit if you want it to. You really think each hooker is into the guy she’s fucking? Nah man.” He exhaled the smoke into Mark’s face, making him cough. “They go where the money is.”

“Yeah but you didn’t get paid to do that,” Tommy said, sneering just a little. He’d never been the most _open minded_ , and even Billy’s status couldn’t keep him from opening his fat mouth.

“Lemme give you some education, amigo,” Billy said, voice sharp, eyes even sharper. “Chicks dig confidence. They dig you showing off how comfortable you are with yourself, yeah?” He leaned forward, the cherry of his cigarette getting dangerously close to Tommy’s face. “You get paid in _pussy_ for shit like that, Hagan.” His eyes glinted and Tommy flinched back, just the slightest. The rest of the guys seemed to mull this over, not wanting to argue with someone who was known to violently burst. _Especially_ when drunk.

“It’s still gross,” Tommy mumbled, not meeting Billy’s eye. Billy rolled his eyes and pulled back, exhaling the smoke as he pinched the cigarette between his thumb and middle finger.

“Hagan, I have _seen_ you eat out of the trash,” he droned, smirking more when Tommy went red and the girls around laughed at him. “And _you_ didn’t get paid.”

“Whatever,” Tommy grumbled, anger pouring off of him. Krissy seemed to get tired of the conversation.

“Billy,” she cooed into his ear, hand rubbing up his thigh. Steve clenched his fists and tried to will that angry little green monster away. Those were _his_ thighs too feel up, _his_ chest to admire, and _his_ lips to kiss. “The game’s a bust. Maybe we should just say that your spin landed on me?” Steve stood up abruptly and headed for the kitchen. The sounds of the group in the next room were quieter and he took some calming breaths. He grabbed an open bottle of tequila and poured himself a shot, tossing it back easily.

“Got what you wanted, huh?” Tommy’s voice cut through the quiet in the kitchen like a knife. Steve turned, frowning. He hadn’t even noticed Tommy had followed him.

“What?” Steve replied, because he was jealous, tired, and needed a fucking _drink_ if he had to watch Krissy Simpson suck face with his boyfriend all night. Well, kind of boyfriend. They hadn’t really made it a _thing_ , not out loud, but Steve could think about it however he wanted. And boy, did he _want_ Billy to be his boyfriend. It was a vaguely sobering thought.

“I see the way you look at him,” Tommy sneered, voice low. It made Steve’s hands clammy but he rolled his eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me man?” Steve asked. “Look at him like what? Like he’s an obnoxious tool that happens to be my friend?”

“You look at him like you looked at Wheeler.” It was like Steve had been drenched in ice water. He couldn’t help the way his breath stuttered and his eyes widened. Tommy grabbed a beer from the ice tub, eyes never leaving Steve. “So,” he repeated, words slow, calculated, and _cruel_ , “Did you,” he popped the tab, “Get what,” he moved closer to Steve, who found he couldn’t breathe, “You wanted?”

“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve bit out, trying to ignore the wiggling in his stomach. The nerves that threatened to burst. Tommy slammed the beer on the counter and shoved Steve up against the fridge, magnets clattering to the ground as Steve let out a whoosh of air.

“I’m not stupid,” he hissed. “You look at him all the _fucking_ time. Bet you were just _praying_ that the bottle would land on him. Fucking disgusting.” Steve turned red in embarrassment and anger, shoving Tommy back, despite the fact that his nerves were making him feel like throwing up.

“I said _fuck off_ ,” he repeated through gritted teeth. “You’d don’t know _shit_.” Tommy shoved him in retaliation and Steve cursed when the corner of the counter jabbed into his back.

“I’ve known you since we were kids,” Tommy said, an old hurt laced in his voice. “I know _plenty_. Like how _you_ were the one who said we should practice kissing, _you_ were the one who always wanted to fucking holds hands, _you_ were the one who–”

“Shut _up_!” Steve yelled, shoving Tommy back again. This gathered some attention from the other room, finally, and people crept in the doorway, ready to watch a fight. “You think you know me, but you don’t know fucking _anything_ ,” he spat out. He was shaking, angry and scared, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. Tommy didn’t bother acknowledging the crowd, but his mean grin meant he knew they were there.

“Does he know?” He asked, taking a step forward. “Is that how you climbed back up the ladder? King Steve, down on his knees, just fucking _begging_ to su–” Steve punched Tommy in the jaw, fury boiling over, heated by fear. The crowd ‘ooh’d. Tommy stumbled back, but recovered quickly enough and tackled Steve to the floor. They grappled, cheers from the group egging them on.

Tommy got the upper hand, as he usually did, and punched Steve so hard his head spun. He spit some blood on the floor next to him and bucked, trying to dislodge the other boy. Tommy just sneered and reared back to punch him again when he was being hauled off. Billy pulled him by his collar, making him choke ever so slightly. His eyes were dark and furious, teeth bared and glinting as he pushed Tommy against the counter until he hissed.

“You’re really pushing your limits tonight, Hagan,” he said, voice low and dangerous. The room buzzed with energy, tense and excited. Tommy bristled, but didn’t shove Billy, though he was clearly itching to. Billy leaned closer and tilted his head. “Well? You gonna tell me why you were beating up on Harrington?”

“‘Cause he’s a fucking–”

“Just leave it, Billy,” Steve said, finally getting up. The alcohol and fight had made his legs wobbly. Billy turned to look at him, earring glinting in the light as it swung. “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Tommy’s being a fucking douche, what’s new.” Billy snorted and Tommy surged forward again, pressed back into the counter with a hiss by Billy’s arm. “Fuck this,” he said, giving Tommy the finger. “I’m fucking leaving, alright?” He was so _goddamn_ tired of this evening.

“It’s ‘cause I’m right, isn’t it,” Tommy sneered. Steve just shook his head and pushed through the crowd, ignoring the way everyone stared at him.

“Right about what?” He heard Billy ask. And Steve froze a little, because Tommy running his mouth to Steve was one thing, but running it to Billy? It wasn’t like Billy didn’t _know_ , obviously, but he didn’t want to have to hear this. Have to hear Billy tearing him down because kissing for a joke was one thing, but someone actually being gay? That wasn’t going to fly, even if Billy tried to play it off. Steve looked back and wished he hadn’t because Tommy looked fucking _gleeful_. Like Steve had given him a fucking _present_.

“That Steve wants to suck your dick,” he said conversationally. The room quieted and Steve heard the feet of the people next to him shuffling away. Felt the panic creeping up on him. Felt like he was _definitely_ going to throw up. Billy took a step back from Tommy, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. Steve just shook his head and let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re delusional, Hagan. No need to project your feelings onto me.” He was glad his voice didn’t waver. Tommy snarled and jerked forward to go at Steve again, but Carol’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Fuck you,” he seethed, arms trembling from holding himself back. “You disgusting fucking _faggot_.” Steve didn’t let his reaction show, just stared Tommy down, wishing he hadn’t come to this stupid fucking party. Billy was just staring, eyes wide, like he didn’t know how to proceed. How to say anything to Tommy that didn’t incriminate them _both_. And Steve– Steve suddenly didn’t care. They had just over 2 months of school left and it wasn’t like Steve cared about any of these people. They’d dropped him the minute he wasn’t _in_ and had only accepted him back because Billy willed it.

“And what if I am,” he said, surprised at how even his voice was. He could hear the ripple through the crowd, could see the way Billy tensed up. “What if I am a fucking faggot?” He walked towards Tommy, who seemed surprised at Steve’s sudden turn. “At least I’m not a fucking piece of shit like you. At least I don’t suck dick and kiss ass for power in a fucking _high school_.” Tommy went red, baring his teeth. Steve sneered. “At least I’m not a fucking _coward_.” Tommy swung again, but this time Steve was ready. Knew it was coming. So he used Tommy’s weight to pull on his arm and flip him over onto the ground. He slammed into the cupboards under the counter and some cups of unfinished punch tipped over and dripped down on him. Steve turned and high tailed it without stopping to look at Billy. Wasn’t sure he could. People parted like the red sea for him, eyes wide.

When he finally got to his car, Steve’s hands were shaking. He fumbled with his keys, panic starting to set in.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he hissed, throwing his keys to the ground. He pressed the meat of his palms to his eyes until he saw stars, trying to will away the tears threatening to leak out. What a fucking _shit show_. He took a few shaky breaths before crouching, turning to lean his back against his car. “I’m such a _fucking_ idiot…” After a few calming breaths Steve grabbed his keys from the asphalt, got in his car, and drove away. He wished Billy had followed him out. He wished a lot of things.

Steve didn’t bother to take off his shoes when he got home, heading straight for his father’s study. His whiskey was off limits, but Steve didn’t give a shit anymore. Wanted to fucking _blackout_ and forget the night ever happened. Forget the cold shoulder he’d certainly be getting come Monday morning. He didn’t bother with a glass, just drank straight out of the decanter as he went to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. The whiskey burned in the right way and Steve reveled in the feeling as he wallowed.

“Good going, Stevie,” he mumbled to himself. “Ruin the one good thing you had going for ya.” He took another gulp of whiskey, already starting to feel more pleasantly warm again. “Just, just _had_ to prove a point… Just _had_ to get one over Tommy.” He blinked through the tears that had started to fall. “Had to prove a _point_.” He curled in on himself, whimpering. “You fucking _dumbass_.” The decanter slipped from his fingers and thudded to the floor, the whiskey dribbling out. Steve didn’t move to pick it up or clean it. Just sat there, curled in on himself, until he fell asleep.

He woke up to something banging on the glass doors of the living room. Everything was blurry with sleep and he groaned as he sat up. It was still dark out, so it couldn’t have been long. He rubbed at his eyes and turned to look, jumping when he saw the shadowy figure.

“Harrington!” Steve tensed up at Billy’s voice. Found he wanted to get up but couldn’t move. “Harrington for fuck’s _sake_ , lemme in!” Steve got up and stumbled to the back door, fumbling with the lock. Billy ripped it open the moment he could and he surged forward. Steve flailed and moved backwards, running into the coffee table and falling on his ass with a thud. He looked up at Billy, eyes wide with panic, and felt his lungs starting to get tight. Billy looked down at him, his face unreadable. Or Steve was just really, really fucking drunk. Probably both. Neither of them spoke, the only sound in the room Steve’s quick breathing.

“W-What do you want, Hargrove,” Steve said, unable to take the waiting. Figured he’d prompt the fight that was bound to happen, since they’d talked a _lot_ about secrecy and how Neil _couldn’t know_. Billy’s jaw twitched.

“What the fuck was that?” Steve swallowed and looked away.

“I know,” Steve whispered. “He was just– He fucking– _Fuck!_ ” Steve buried his face in his hands again. “Tommy just gets under my fucking skin and he figured it out anyway and I just– I’m so tired of hanging out with people who pretend to give a shit only when it benefits them. I’m tired of pretending like I care about _any_ of this, this _bullshit_. I just–” He deflated a little, hands still covering his face. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry.” Steve jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing himself back along the coffee table. He hyperventilated, panic seizing him, and when he looked at Billy, he seemed shocked.

“I–” Billy stammered, thrown. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” Steve swallowed with difficulty and let Billy touch his shoulder again. The blonde’s brow furrowed and he crouched so he was eye level with Steve. “What did he even say to you?”

“Why?” Steve asked. “Why does it matter? We can’t– I mean– Why are you here?” Billy licked his lips and looked down nervously. He bit his lip, weighing his options as Steve watched him, wary.

“It’s– I’m–” He let out a harsh breath through his nose. “I was worried,” he mumbled. Steve blinked.

“What.” Billy blushed and grit his teeth, still looking away.

“I was _worried_. Because you were fucking drunk and still _drove home_.” He licked his lips again and looked at Steve.

“So… You’re not here to fight me?” Billy let out a strangled sound and ducked his head.

“Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath. “No, I’m not here to fight you.”

“But aren’t you mad? I mean, I fucked everything up.” Billy watched, face carefully blank. “And honestly I– I can’t do this.” Billy’s face crumpled and he stood.

“Oh.” Steve could see his hands clenching and unclenching. “I guess I’ll just leave then.” He moved for the door and Steve’s still _very_ drunk brain worked in overdrive to figure out _what the fuck was happening_.

“Wait, Billy–” He stood and the room started to spin, making him trip himself up and he fell to the floor with a hard thump. He groaned and wished that he could wake up from whatever fucking nightmare the world had cursed him with. Calloused hands gripped his arms and hauled him up, Billy’s frowning face suddenly right in front of his. Steve couldn’t help himself. He kissed him. When Billy pulled back Steve winced. “Sorry, I know you don’t want me to–”

“What?” Billy furrowed his brow. “What do you mean I don’t want you to?”

“‘Cause I outed myself. So you don’t wanna see me anymore. ‘Cause your dad’s a dillhole.” Billy’s mouth opened slightly and he blinked away his confusion before ducking his head again.

“Oh my god, I’m a fucking idiot, of course you–” He sighed and looked up, shaking his head as he hauled Steve to his feet. “Come on, pretty boy,” he grunted as he heaved all of Steve’s weight up and onto the couch. Steve let him, turning his head to press a kiss to Billy’s hand when he pulled away. He made a face.

“Sorry, I just–”

“Stop apologizing.” Steve snapped his mouth shut and looked away. Then Billy was turning his head back, making him look him in the eye. Steve felt his heart speed up. Billy’s gaze was intense and searching. “What did Hagan say to you?”

“He just– He just implied some shit about me sucking your dick that’s it.” Steve licked his lips.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m just not telling you everything.”

“That’s lying by omission, baby,” Billy replied with a fond smirk. Steve let out a heartfelt sigh, unable to stop himself.

“I love it when you call me pet names,” he mumbled into Billy’s palm. He could feel that his face was flushed, but whether it was because of what he admitted or the alcohol, he wasn’t sure. When he looked at Billy from under his lashes, his ears were pink and there was a flush spreading down his neck.

“Yeah?” He whispered. Steve nodded and looked away again.

“Tommy– Tommy knows a lot about me,” he said, voice soft. “Fuck, he was my first kiss, not that he’d ever admit it.” Steve could feel the way Billy tensed and he smiled a little to himself. “So he knows when I’m in love. Knows what it looks like.” There was a sharp intake of breath from Billy, but Steve couldn’t look. He _couldn’t_. “He said that I look at you like I looked at Nancy. That’s how he knew.” Billy was quiet except for some ragged breathing, but he hadn’t pulled away. Steve turned to look and, oh. Billy was staring at him, eyes dragging slowly over his face. Face flushed and mouth slightly open as his thumb made small circles on Steve’s cheek.

“You look at me like you looked at Wheeler?” His voice was hushed, full of wonder. Steve’s breath hitched and his eyes darted to Billy’s lips. He nodded dumbly.

“I can’t do _this_ ,” he said, speaking quickly so Billy wouldn’t run, “Because if you hated me, if you didn’t want this as much as I do, I– I couldn’t– I _can’t_ pretend like I don’t love you.” Billy kissed him then, soft and sweet and nothing like the kisses they usually shared. He pulled back enough so he could speak.

“We’re gonna figure this out, okay? But it’s not gonna be easy– If my dad–”

“I’ve got a bat with nails in it and I’m friends with the police chief,” Steve said, bratty and so full of emotion he wasn’t sure what to do with it all. “I’d like to see him _try_.” Billy smiled against his lips.

“And Hagan?”

“Tommy’s never scared me.” He paused. “Carol scares me though.”

“Yeah, she was out for your _balls_ after you left,” Billy chuckled. His face dropped a little and he pulled back. “I couldn’t– I didn’t know what to say after–”

“Honestly,” Steve mumbled into Billy’s palm, which still hadn’t left his face, “I don’t give a shit. And I’m too drunk to care about it right now.” Billy’s smiling lips pressed against his again. “Also, I don’t think I can get upstairs,” he mumbled.

“Lucky for us you’re a rich bitch who has a huge couch.” Steve snorted but his eyes were closing.

“Get up here and fucking cuddle me, you dickhead.” He fell asleep to the sound of Billy’s laughter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I love thinking of billy being scared of the dark because sometimes he'd wake up and Neil would be there trying to hurt him or something and he obviously never tells anyone cause it's embarrassing he just sleeps with a lamp on but he doesn't realize that max knows and max told Steve (and sworn him to secrecy, it was just in case something happened and Steve needed to help him out) so when there's a power outage Steve has to help billy who's freaking out ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Neil being Neil and panic attacks. Technically pre-harringrove.  
> Unbeta'd

It wasn’t like he was a _pussy_ or anything. He just liked knowing what was around him at all times. Didn’t like waking up to something dark hovering above him. Something dangerous. Didn’t like the feeling of something clenching so tight in his chest it _hurt_. Feeling himself cower as it loomed, hand around his throat, eyes unfeeling and cold. As he knew that in that moment, it could kill him without a care. Without a second thought.

That was all.

So he had a small lamp he kept on, kept hidden. Just enough light to always see. To always clearly see what was around him, good or bad. It was an easy to miss lamp, a small ceramic surfboard, hidden by the side of his bed between it and the wall.

The thing was, Max noticed it. She found it while looking for quarters to pilfer, wondered what it meant, and then found out in the worst way.

Neil found the lamp, asked why Billy thought he had the right to run up the electricity bill like that. Didn’t allow Billy to answer before smashing the lamp on the floor, right by where Billy’s feet touched the hardwood. Made Billy pick up the pieces.

Billy always kept his curtains open after that. Max noticed that too. Noticed that he stayed up as late as he could. That he barely slept on cloudy nights. She noticed it all.

“I just haven’t been getting a lot of sleep,” Steve said, shrugging off Max’s question as he drove her home for once. She tilted her head.

“Are you scared of the dark too?” She asked. Steve scrunched his nose but was gentle and kind when he asked,

“Are _you_ scared of the dark?”

“No,” Max scoffed, too offended to think about what she was saying, “Billy is.” She noticed her mistake immediately and noticed the way Steve turned to look at her, mouth agape, before quickly looking back to the road. His mouth snapped shut, but his eyes stayed wide. Neither one of them said anything for a while.

“How do you know--”

“I just _do_ ,” she said, gripping her backpack tightly. “And you can’t tell _anyone_ , okay? I shouldn’t have even told _you_.” Steve just nodded and mimed zipping his mouth shut. Max rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her relief.

And then spring brought storms. Bad ones. _Really_ bad ones.

Steve and Billy were in the locker room, the last ones left after practice. Steve hadn’t wanted to leave, not jumping to go to an empty house, and Billy had waited to shower alone, too many bruises on his ribs. As Steve was tying his shoes and Billy was buttoning his pants, there was a crack that made them both jump. The lights began to flicker and Steve had only a moment before they shut off, but it was long enough to catch the terror on Billy’s face.

For a few moments, the only sound in the dark room was Billy’s ragged breathing.

“Hey, uh,” Steve began, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth, “Are you okay?”

“Peachy keen, King,” Billy said, voice tight and raspy. Steve bit his lip before standing. The sounds made Billy’s breathing speed up.

“You don’t sound fine, dude.” Steve blinked, trying to see if his eyes could adjust at all. He knew this locker room, had a good idea of where Billy was, but also didn’t want to be wrong. He waited for a snappy answer, but there was none. Billy was breathing faster and faster, his breath starting to sound almost squeaky. “Billy?” Steve took a few steps and jumped when there was a bang as Billy threw himself into the lockers behind him, whimpering. Steve stumbled and banged his knee on a bench on the way over, feeling around for Billy.

“Please…” Billy wheezed. Steve froze.

“Billy? It’s me, okay? It’s Steve. I’m right over here.” He wasn’t sure what to do. This seemed like much more than just being scared of the dark. So he figured Billy would appreciate knowing where he was, what he was doing. “Are you okay? I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to.” Billy didn’t respond, but his breathing slowed ever so slightly. So Steve kept talking. “I hate these storms. I hate the dark.” Billy’s breath hitched but didn’t speed up. “I, uh, I got lost in these underground tunnels once, yeah? And it was dark as shit, dark as-- dark as _hell_ ,” he whispered. “Whenever I try to sleep, whenever it’s too dark, it’s like I’m back there sometimes.” Billy’s breathing was slowing and Steve shifted, leaning back against the lockers. “So like, if you just so _happened_ to be scared of the dark, I wouldn’t like, judge you or anything.”

“I’m not a fucking wimp like you, Harrington,” Billy said, voice quiet and lacking heat. Steve grinned.

“Yeah, I know.” Steve felt a body along his side and turned his head. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could just make out the outline of Billy’s face. Of his wet hair and sharp jaw. He swallowed thickly. Billy was silent for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Thanks.” It was quiet, but firm, and Steve nudged his shoulder with his.

“Can I ask why? ‘Cause like, you really didn’t seem okay.” Billy tensed and sucked on his teeth. Steve just waited, ever patient.

“I just,” Billy began before pausing. He took a shaky breath and exhaled sharply. “I just freak out a little when I can’t see what’s around me. What’s waiting there.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “I know exactly what you mean.” He didn’t press, even though he wanted to, because that _wasn’t_ a little freak out, just pressed his shoulder to Billy’s until the lights came back on. They both stood, stretching and not making eye contact. As Steve moved to leave, Billy cleared his throat again. Steve turned and Billy’s back was to him, tense.

“Don’t--”

“I won’t,” Steve said. Billy’s shoulders relaxed and Steve let his eyes wander, let them trail where they shouldn’t, before looking away with a blush. He left the locker room and missed the way Billy watched him go, eyes soft and longing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How about #1 with drunk Billy for the prompt thing?_   
>  **#1. How much did you drink?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd. Just short cute fluff.

Steve was sound asleep, Princess PooPoo curled up next to him, when a heavy weight landed on top of him. His eyes snapped open and he grunted, Princess jumping up and dashing out of the room. Steve blinked, turning his head to the side as Billy curled his arms around him, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck.

“Well, hello,” Steve mumbled, glancing at the clock. 1:27. “You’re home early.” Billy had won his surfing competition earlier that day, but Steve had an early shift the next morning, so he had left the beach party early. He had imagined Billy would be out until at least 3, not that he was complaining.

“I missed you,” Billy mumbled into his neck. Steve flushed and smiled, even as Billy reached down and cupped his ass. “And I missed _you_ too.”

“Oh?” Steve pushed back into Billy’s hand, smiling at the soft groan he emitted into Steve’s neck.

“Also I may have gotten in a fight and may have been told to go home.” Steve snorted and tried to turn over, but Billy was a dead weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hummed, shoving his cold nose against Steve’s neck fully. “You smell good.”

“How much did you _drink_?” Steve shoved at Billy until he lifted up enough for Steve to turn on his back, letting Billy flop back down on top of him when he had settled.

“Mmmm’a lot,” Billy said into Steve’s cheek. He gave his cheek a lazy, wet kiss that made Steve scrunch his nose.

“Oh, dude, gross.”

“Don’t be such a brat.” Billy snuggled into him, tangling their legs together and wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle. It made Steve smile wide. Billy was more affectionate now that they were in their own apartment, but he only got like _this_ when he was nearly blackout drunk. He rarely octopussed the way Steve did, and every single time Steve got to see it, he cherished it. He kissed the crown of Billy’s head, still smiling.

“Love you, Blue,” Steve whispered.

“Love you, Bambi.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Prompts: “I love you” and “Don’t lie to me”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst with a happy ending.

Steve whistled while he chopped up some onion to toss into his scrambled eggs. Butter was melting in the pan, the delicious smell wafting through the kitchen. A plate of eggs with cheese waited on the table, steaming as the shredded cheese melted. Steve anxiously bobbed his head along to the song running through his head, perking up when he heard Billy’s feet on the stairs.

“Later, Harrington,” he called, shrugging on his jacket.

“Wait!” Steve quickly ran out of the kitchen. Billy had paused, hand on the doorknob, eyebrow raised. “I made eggs.” It sounded so _lame_ , and Billy’s face darkened a little. Angry eyes looked away from him, staring at the floor.

“Why you gotta do this every time?” His voice was quiet, _restrained_ , and Steve swallowed nervously.

“I just,” he fumbled for words, “Just thought maybe you’d wanna, uh, that we could—”

“I told you, I don’t do domestic shit,” Billy snapped, something like hurt flashing over his face. “Why do you keep _fucking_ pushing?”

“It doesn’t have to be like, like that,” Steve replied, wringing his hands a little. “But, I dunno, I thought—“

“Harrington,” Billy barked. Steve snapped his mouth shut with a click. “I know you miss having a girlfriend to dote on, but I’m not that. I’m a placeholder until you find another Nancy.” He sighed and for a moment, looked so tired, so sad, that it made Steve’s chest ache. “Stop acting like, like—”

“Like I love you?” Billy’s eyes snapped over to him, wide and vulnerable, before hardening into something dark. Something much closer to the Billy he first met, not the one he had fallen for. The one who would read to him, who traced patterns into the moles on his back while smoke curled around them after they shared a joint, who was so _funny_ and _smart_ and still a total _asshole_ , but he was _his_ asshole--

“Don’t,” Billy said, voice low and trembling. “Don’t fucking say that.”

“What?” With a shaky breath, Billy moved closer, his entire body tense.

“Don’t _lie_ to me,” he said, voice breaking ever so slightly. Steve opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the fire alarm started blaring.

“Shit!” Steve ran back into the kitchen, moving the pan with smoking, burned butter to another burner. He grabbed a dish towel and opened a window, waving out what smoke he could. But he saw Billy turn to leave again and he _couldn’t_. Not until he understood that Steve wouldn’t lie. Not about _that_. “And I’m not lying!” He heard the door slam and cursed, tossing the towel on the table and running out after Billy. Who was already almost to his camaro. “Hargrove!”

“Why won’t you just--!” Steve cut him off with a kiss, pressing him against his car. Billy shoved him back, head swiveling with wide, scared eyes. “ _What_ are you doing? Are you fucked in the head?” Steve ignored the sting of that comment, instead choosing to stare Billy down, pressing him against his car.

“Come back inside,” Steve pressed. Billy growled and Steve closed his eyes, thinning his lips out and taking a deep breath. “You _know_ I’m a bad liar, Billy.” Blue eyes locked onto his. “I made you eggs because--” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Steve’s grip slackened, but Billy didn’t pull away as Steve looked down, sucking his bottom lips between his teeth. He pulled away, straightening up and looking Billy in the eye. “I want you to stay. Every single time, I want you to stay.” Billy’s eyes widened. “I want you to be around _all the time_. It’s all I fucking think about.” Thick hands pushed him back, and Steve felt hurt for only a moment.

“Let’s… Let’s go inside.” Billy followed Steve wrinkling his nose at the smell when they walked in. Steve led him to the couch, sitting down. Billy stayed standing. They were quiet and Steve wrinkled his brow.

“I--”

“You mean it?” His voice was rough and quiet, eyes somewhere above Steve’s head.

“Billy,” Steve scoffed. He smiled when Billy looked at him, sad and small. Billy let out a tiny noise, broken and hopeful all at once. He sank onto the couch and Steve held him, pulling him close. Billy fingers gripped into Steve’s shirt. “You’re not a placeholder. I-I do still like girls, but I like you best.” The laugh he got was wet, and Billy tucked his face against Steve’s neck.

“Boy, don’t I feel special,” Billy replied, trying to sound teasing, but it came out more honest instead. Steve just smiled, tucking his face against Billy’s.

“That’s because you _are_.” Billy’s breath hitched and his fingers clenched tighter into Steve’s shirt. They stayed there, curled together on the couch, until the smell of burning butter became unbearable.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How about something like this for a prompt? Steve takes Billy on a date to see a movie. A horror movie. Billy doesn't want to tell Steve that he's terrified of horror movies and that they give him nightmares. Because that's just embarrassing. So he doesn't say anything. Flash forward to the end of the night, Billy's staying over at Steve's where he has a really bad nightmare and Steve comforts him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The history of this fic is the upside down ended after the tunnels, and Steve likes scary movies because he watches them to ‘desensitize’ himself. Billy and Steve started fooling around in the summer, and then feelings got involved, so they are trying out this whole dating thing.  
> Angsty with a happy ending.  
> Unbeta'd

When Steve suggested seeing _Nightmare on Elm Street 2_ , Billy had laughed, because it was obviously a joke. Steve didn’t _watch_ horror movies. Had never expressed much of an interest in them. At least not to Billy.

But then Steve had furrowed his brow, offended.

“What?” He pouted. “I saw the first one last year, I wanna see this one with you. Like,” he blushed, looking at his hands, “Like a _date_.” Billy’s mouth went a little dry. It never ceased to amaze him how sweet, how romantic and innocent Steve could be. He looked at his hands, fidgeting with his metal rings.

“Sorry, I-- For whatever reason I figured you didn’t _like_ horror movies,” Billy said. He’d seen the first one too, but was positive he didn’t want to see the second. In fact, he hadn’t _wanted_ to see the first one either. Billy had taken Trisha Connors on a date, and she wanted to use the movie as an opportunity to hold onto him and try and give him a hand job in the back of the theater. For once, he was grateful for her pushy nature, trying to ignore the movie playing.

Unfortunately, it ended up just making his dreams scary _and_ horny. He _really_ didn’t want to see this with Steve.

But he was giving him his puppy dog eyes, pleading with Billy.

“I’ll buy?” Steve offered. “Popcorn and soda too.” Billy let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding and gave Steve a strained smile.

“Sounds good, babe.” Honestly, it was worth it for the way Steve lit up, smile stretching across his face.

“Awesome! I was thinking this weekend, since it’ll be closing soon, and we could uh,” he blushed, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Billy through his lashes, “We could have a _sleepover_ of sorts.” He coughed. “If you, uh, catch my drift.” Billy snorted, tossing his feet up on the coffee table.

“I get you, Bambi,” he replied, deciding he would focus on the _end_ of the night. “Getting forward now that you have your own place, huh?” Steve blushed, ducking his head as he smiled.

“You’re such a dick,” he laughed, a quiet, huffy thing. Billy flopped over, laying his head in Steve’s lap so he could scratch his scalp. He got lost in the sensation, imagining what they could do Friday night. The _fun_ they could have.

\--

To say that Billy had hated the movie was an understatement. Steve had been giddy, spilling some popcorn as he gestured animatedly about the movie. Billy had nodded along, hoping his smile didn’t look too much like a grimace. They strolled into the theater, choosing some seats in the middle. The people in the back would be preoccupied, but they were far enough away from the people near the front that they could lean close, whispering to each other during the trailers. Billy smiled, flicking his tongue at Steve suggestively.

“This popcorn is pretty slick with butter,” he murmured. Steve blushed and gave him a slight shove.

“Dude, imagine how much that would fucking burn on your dick,” he replied, chuckling. Billy snorted and looked away, covering the bottom of his face in embarrassment. He hated when he laughed like that. Steve grabbed his knee as the theater went dark and Billy’s breath hitched.

And then when the movie had started, when Freddy, a _monster_ , had been inside Jesse? Was festering and waiting to control him to kill, to hurt? Billy didn’t like the parallels to his life _at all_. It had him sweaty and jumpy, licking his lips and tapping his fingers nervously.

Steve had definitely noticed how stiff, jittery, and uncomfortable he was, if the worried eyes he was giving him were any indication. Billy slipped his hand into Steve’s, giving it a squeeze while Freddy appeared as Jesse’s reflection in the mirror. Steve squeezed back, looking back to the screen.

Billy tried to ignore the rest of the movie, focusing on someone near the front who looked like he was jacking off alone. He was almost impressed by the guy’s courage. He looked around the front of the theater, avoiding the screen at all costs. Steve would jump and laugh in scared delight, squeezing Billy’s hand, leaning over to whisper,

“This is so _good_!” Billy nodded dumbly.

When the movie was finally over and they got to leave, Steve effused about how great the movie was, gesturing animatedly. Billy nodded along at the right parts as best he could, focusing on the fact that they’d soon be back at _Steve’s place_.

“...Billy, are you even listening?” Steve huffed. Billy zoned back in, giving Steve a lecherous smile, running his tongue over his top teeth. Steve flushed.

“Sorry, pretty boy,” he said, voice low and husky. “Just thinking about what I wanna do when we get back to yours.” Steve’s nostrils flared and he picked up his pace. Billy laughed and matched it, giving Steve’s waist a quick squeeze. “Excited, huh?”

“Oh shut up,” Steve said with a smile. “You’re one to talk.” Billy sorely wished he could kiss Steve right then.

Billy didn’t wait, pressing Steve up against the door as it was closing. He licked into his mouth, cupping the small of Steve’s back and pressing his thumb into one of his dimples. Steve whined, hips jerking forward. With a smirk, Billy walked backwards, using one hand to feel his way to the couch. The back of his knees hit the edge and he sat, hard. Steve followed, straddling his lap. He kissed along Billy’s jaw, biting his neck. He sucked on the bite, gently scraping his teeth along the skin. Billy let out a low moan, bringing his hand up to tangle in Steve’s hair.

“ _Shit_ , Spots,” Billy grunted. Steve pulled back, pouting.

“You know I hate that nickname,” he said. “Call me that again and you won’t get your dick sucked tonight.” Billy scoffed and pulled Steve forward, kissing him again. Steve stuck his hands inside Billy’s open shirt, and he arched his back as Steve’s thumbs found his nipples.

Later, after they had moved to Steve’s bed, after they had once again learned every inch of each other, Steve woke up to the sound of a strangled scream. He felt Billy next to him, writhing in his sleep. He sat up, rubbing his eye and looking over in concern. Billy was still asleep, but his brow was furrowed and he was drenched in sweat. He let out a whimper before his eyes snapped open and he let out a scream that made Steve jump.

“Billy?” Steve said, gripping his shoulder. Billy jerked and looked at him, terror in his eyes before he recognized what he was looking at. “Babe? What’s wrong, Blue?” Billy swallowed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as tears leaked out. He let out a shaky breath and gasped in air, keeping a sob at bay. Steve grabbed Billy’s hand, letting him squeeze tightly as he took deep and strained breaths. It was quiet except for Billy, Steve’s mind racing to figure out what could have set this off. But Billy wouldn’t tell if Steve pressed _too_ hard, so he waited. He kissed Billy’s temple, cupping his face and pulling him close. Billy wrapped his arms around Steve, pressing his face into his chest. Steve scraped his nails along the base of Billy's skull, relishing the touch.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” Billy mumbled. He heard Steve’s heart speed up, so he tightened his arms. “Nothing like that, baby,” he said. “It’s that I don’t like horror movies. I don’t-- They freak me the fuck out.” His voice was croaky as he forced the words out, feeling like a fucking _child_ , unable to watch some dumb, scary fake movie. Steve let out a pained noise and he kissed the top of Billy’s head.

“Babe, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, upset that Billy had put himself through that.

“S’embarrassing,” Billy mumbled. “They give me nightmares. It’s like I’m some fucking toddler.”

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah,” Billy sighed. “And this--” He let out a low groan, squeezing Steve.

“Was this one bad?” Steve murmured. Billy nodded. “What happened?”

“I--” Billy’s breath hitched, “It was like the movie except-- Except I was turning into Neil,” he choked out. Steve gasped and gripped Billy in his arms, fingers tangling in his hair. “I was hurting everyone, hurting _you_ , and I-- I’m already so scared that’s gonna happen--”

“Billy, babe, baby, no,” Steve said, pulling back and kissing away Billy’s tears. “No, no, that is not gonna happen. That’s _not_ going to happen.”

“How do you know?” Billy replied, panicked.

“Because you’re doing better,” he said, voice sincere and earnest. “You’re learning and growing. You’re scared of turning into him. That’s a good sign.”

“But--”

“I love you,” Steve said, making Billy’s throat close up. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t see if he _really_ meant it. “And I won’t let you. I’ll be here to help you, to take care of you. If-- If you let me.” He trailed off at the end, making Billy finally look up. Steve was watching him, nervous and tense. Billy moved up and gently pressed his lips to Steve’s, putting everything he didn’t have the words to say into the kiss. When Billy pulled back, he smiled, small and weak, but there.

“I’ll _always_ want you in my life, pretty boy,” Billy whispered. Steve’s breath stuttered and he ducked to steal another kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _if you'd like a prompt - 19 from the fluff/general list, with Harringrove & Max_   
>  **#19: Ew, that was so sappy I might vomit.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure floof.  
> Unbeta'd

“No, we’re not going to the _fucking_ diner,” Billy snapped, fingers gripping the steering wheel. Max kicked his seat and he growled, using his arm to swat at her legs. “Hey! Shoes off the seats!”

“You _suck_ , Billy!” Max yelled, kicking his seat again. Before Billy could turn and start something worse, Steve grabbed his hand.

“Hey, we have the time,” Steve said quietly, eyes searching. Billy flushed and pursed his lips.

“I don’t have the money,” he grit out.

“I can pay--”

“You always pay, and I’m not some fucking _charity_ case.” Billy looked at Steve from the corner of his eye, blush going down his neck. He hated that Steve always paid. That he barely let Billy foot the bill, always waving off his frustrations. He _knew_ that Steve had money, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work hard and pay his way. He’d just needed to refill his first aid kit earlier, now that he was fighting fucking _monsters_ , so he was out of cash sooner than usual. His nostrils flared and he gripped the wheel again.

“I don’t think you are--”

“It’s _embarrassing_ being a fucking _burden_ \--”

“If I have the money, why wouldn’t I help the one I love?” Steve snapped. Billy made a strained choking sound, coming to a stop at a stop light and looking at him with wide eyes. Steve was blushing, but his brows were furrowed with concern. “I don’t see it as charity. I don’t think you’re a burden and it’s not _pity_. I wanna do things with you, I want you to be happy and not need to worry. Why wouldn’t I if I have the ability to help?” Billy’s heart was pounding in his chest and he could barely breathe. Steve gave him a small, heartfelt and loving smile. The car behind them honked, and Billy stuck his hand out the window to give them the finger. He stepped on the gas, shooting forward.

Max made a retching noise in the back.

“Ew, that was _so_ sappy,” she whined. “I might vomit.”

“Shut your trap, shitbird,” Billy snapped. “Or do you want me to tell Lucas about the _poetry_ you’re writing him?” She let out a screech and smacked his shoulder. He shoved at her, cursing as he tried to focus on the road and tame her claws.

“Screw you, Billy! I showed you those so you could _help_!” She stopped struggling, a dark grin spreading across her face and Billy knew what was coming. “Since _you_ write so much about _Steve_.”

“You do?” Steve looked so dopey, so cute, perky and happy, his smile crinkling his eyes as they sparkled with mirth. “Can I read it?” Billy wasn’t sure he’d ever stop blushing.

“I hate both of you _so_ much.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hey 😊 I have a prompt but I have no idea if I've left it or not so if I have I'm sorry I'm not tryna be pushy I just have a terrible memory! I was thinking of Steve and billy who aren't friends or maybe they are just tentatively but Billy loses his necklace and gets really freaked out and upset in front of the basketball guys & everyone's shocked coz it's billy but it's cos it's his last thing he has of his mom& Steve/other guys help find it &Steve looks after billy& gets all find of him_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angsty and fluffy and pre-harringrove.  
> Unbeta'd.

“Fuck!”

It wasn’t unusual to hear Billy cursing in the locker room, in fact, Steve would feel weird if he _wasn’t_ , but the panicked edge to his voice _was_ new. Steve looked over his shoulder, watching as Billy pulled stuff out of his locker, frantically searching for something. Mark was next to him and he leaned over, but Billy shoved him back. The boys around him looked at each other, confused, but not willing to incur the wrath of Billy Hargrove. Steve was struck by how freaked out he looked. Like he’d lost something personal, something important, something meaningful.

“Where the _fuck_ is it?!”

“Where is wh–” Tommy began, but Billy shoved past him and into the showers. Tommy watched him go, more confused than angry, and he looked at Steve. They weren’t on good terms, far from it, but Steve and Billy had formed a weird truce, hard not to after he joined them that night at the Byers, and it was obvious Tommy was at a loss. Steve shrugged with a furrowed brow, unsure of what set him off this time. There was the sound of a yell echoing off the shower walls and most of the team started to redress ever so slightly faster. Billy stormed back to the locker room, eyes blazing, body full of tension, and Steve was shocked to see his eyes glassy. Like he wanted to cry but wasn’t going to let himself. It made something in his heart clench a little bit. The rest of the team cleared out, tossing worried looks over their shoulders, but ultimately deciding this wasn’t their problem. Steve slipped his shirt on and went over.

“Hargrove,” he said, voice gentle. Billy ignored him, shaking his clothes out. “Hargrove,” Steve tried again. Ignored once more. “ _Billy_.” Steve grabbed his wrist this time, but he was ready for Billy to yank away, so he kept his grip loose. “What’s wrong, dude?” Billy looked down, glaring at his clothes with pursed lips.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. Tommy let out a bark of laughter, making Billy growl a little and step towards him. Steve moved in the way, keeping his eyes on Billy.

“It’s not nothing. What are you looking for? Can I help?” Tommy was smart, and quickly left the locker room, leaving Steve and Billy alone. The blonde flared his nostrils and went back to his locker, his breath still coming in short. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but Steve had learned quickly that Billy just needed time. That he would usually answer, but only when he was ready.

“My necklace,” he said, voice soft. Steve quirked a brow.

“The Saint Christopher? You could get a new one, probably, if we–” Billy made a wounded noise that shocked Steve into snapping his mouth shut.

“It’s–” He bit his lip, turning back to go through his clothes again. “My mom gave it to me.” And Steve kinda knew that his mom was gone. That he missed her a lot, at least according to Max.

“Then we’ll find it,” Steve said, moving to look in Billy’s locker again. He didn’t get a response, but he felt the weight of Billy’s stare on him. Steve ignored it, ignored the hot feeling at the back of his neck, and focused intensely on the locker. It was on his second go over that he saw it. A flash of gold way in the back at the bottom of the locker. “Hey!” He reached down, slowly untangling the necklace from the metal mesh, finally pulling it free after some minimal work. “Found it!” Steve turned, a smile on his face, and he froze when he saw Billy. Billy, who reached out with thick calloused fingers to gingerly take the necklace. Who put it on, letting out a shaky breath, as all the tension seemed to leak away. Who looked at him with such sincere gratitude in his eyes, Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Thank you,” he said, finally looking at Steve. It made something weird but good twist in his gut, and he shoved that thought away for later. However, he couldn’t help his blush.

“Not a problem,” he replied. Billy watched him, fist clenched around the medallion, before he licked his lips and looked at the bench.

“I guess Max told you about her.” Steve shrugged.

“Mostly that you missed her.” He saw Billy’s knuckles go white. “Sometimes I sleep in my parents bed,” he said. Billy gave him a look of confused disgust and Steve went red. “Because they’re gone!” He said in a panic. “Not like that, fuck–” Steve ran a hand over his bright red face. “I _meant_ I sleep there sometimes because the room still kinda smells like my mom’s perfume and it helps. When I miss her too much.” Billy didn’t say anything, didn’t give him any acknowledgement, just looked at him. It was non-hostile, more observant and calculating, and Steve worried he’d see too much. So he clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder, giving him a strained smile. “Later, Hargrove.” He quickly left the locker room, his feelings for Billy shifting into something a little more good, a little more _intense_.

Billy watched him go, waiting until he had been gone for a moment before saying into the empty locker room, “Later, Steve.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I have a request! Something pre season 3. Billy ends up in a neck brace. Billy gets hurt badly (because of Neil or during a monster hunt or even a car accident, any one of those works.) He ends up with a serious spinal/neck injury, not a paralyzing injury but could become one if he's not careful. Steve is frustrated because Billy just won't take it easy and rest like he's supposed to, because he hates being laid up in bed all day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all really like me writing hurt!Billy lol. Not that I'm complaining, no sir.  
> Unbeta'd.

“Billy, I swear to fucking _god_ –”

“Fuck you, Harrington! I’m not some fucking invalid!”

“You’re in a _neckbrace!_ ”

Steve had lost count of how many times they’d had this argument today _alone_.

“Ugh,” Billy groaned, frustration making his face scrunch up. “That doesn’t mean I need to just lay around all day!”

“Actually, it does?” Steve was sitting on top of Billy, keeping him held down. After the fourth time he’d come to check on Billy, not only finding him out of bed, but trying to _lift weights_ , he’d man handled him on the bed and sat on his lap, forcing him to stay put. “The doctor literally told you not to over do it? That if you did you could end up _paralyzing yourself_?”

“Okay, _valley girl_ ,” Billy snarkily replied. He let out a huff of air, glaring at the ceiling. Steve looked at him, his anger slowly bleeding out. He knew it was probably driving Billy crazy. That he couldn’t just be still, needed to be moving and doing something at all times. With a sigh, Steve cupped Billy’s cheek, making blue eyes snap to his.

“Babe,” he said, voice soft. Billy just scoffed and looked away, something sad in his eyes. “We can maybe play a game of go fish?” The bland look he got made him smile. “Though with how worked up you get over the game, maybe not–”

“I do not get _worked up_ ,” Billy protested. “You _cheat_.”

“How does one cheat at go fish?”

“I just–” Billy glared up at the ceiling again. “I feel so fucking useless. I don’t– I’m not _doing_ enough, I’m just being lazy–”

“You realize you got this injury risking your life for the kids, right?” Steve cut him off, face hard. His brow wrinkled as he frowned, upset that Billy was being so hard on himself. He ran a finger down Billy’s chest, circling one of his nipples through the fabric of his shirt almost absently. “When that thing threw you,” he said, eyes going distant, “I thought that was it. I thought you’d gotten your neck _twisted_ , that you weren’t gonna make it.” He choked up, the need to cry building in the back of his throat.

“I’m okay,” Billy whispered. Steve let out a wet laugh, shaking his head.

“I know, but– You’re still _hurt_. And you don’t need to prove your worth.” Steve blinked, an epiphany striking him. He looked down at Billy, who was looking away from him, frown marring his face. “You know that, right? You don’t need to be doing something to have value.” Billy shrugged and Steve’s heart broke, just a little.

“I guess,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. Steve moved to straddle him instead, being careful not to jostle him too much.

“You have worth by just existing, darling,” Steve said, bringing Billy’s hand up to kiss the knuckles. A flush spread over Billy’s cheeks and down his neck, but he didn’t open his eyes or look at Steve. “I’m not gonna let you go, Billy. Not for any fucking reason.” Billy cracked one eye, looking up at him. Steve leaned down, kissing Billy slow and deep, tongue licking across the roof of his mouth before he pulled back. “I will, however, fucking murder you if you intentionally do something to hurt yourself.” He pushed a lock of Billy’s hair behind his ear, cradling his face again. Billy smirked up at him, looking less agitated now. “Besides, as long as you’re a good boy and stay perfectly still,” Steve grinned, sharp and teasing, slowly grinding his hips against Billy’s. It got him a moan, bitten off as Billy’s hands came up to grip his hips. “I think a blowjob wouldn’t be too hard to receive.” Billy’s fingers twitched and Steve rolled his hips again. “Or a handjob.”

“Fuck,” Billy groaned, the sound caught in the back of his throat. “Stevie…”

“But only if you promise to start taking it easier.”

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Steve ground his hips down again, making Billy cry out as he kept a relentless pace. Steve panted, bracing himself to hover above Billy, a smile reminiscent of _the King_ on his face. Then, he pushed up, Billy’s hips canting upward as he chased the friction. He let out a whine that made Steve lick his lips.

“I’m a bastard who can leave right now, if you want–”

“Okay, okay,” Billy said, voice breathy and fast. “I’ll take it easy, now just–” He pulled Steve’s hips back, and Steve laughed, leaning down for a kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I had an idea that I’m wondering how my favorite authors would approach. Neil catches Steve and Billy in some compromising situation, how would all three react. Bonus points for hurt/comfort, whump, confessions, etc._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt saying favorite authors literally sent me to heaven y'all when I tell you I cried TT v TT  
> Warning for f-slur, homophobic language, child abuse, and Neil Hargrove.  
> Angsty with a hopeful ending.  
> Unbeta'd.

Billy snickered, kissing along Steve’s collarbone. They were in his room, Billy pressing Steve into his bed, as they lazily made out in the early Thursday sun. It was summer, warm and humid but so much better than winter, and Neil had taken Susan on a week-long anniversary trip. They would be back Saturday, giving Billy plenty of time with Steve while Steve’s parents were there for the week. It couldn’t have worked out better. Max was always out, taking advantage of being able to do what she wanted as long as she was home for the daily evening call, and it left the house to Billy and Steve.

It was like a waking dream.

Steve smiled up at him, skin warm and flushed, hickies blooming long his throat and on his chest. Billy admired his handy work, leaning down to kiss each one.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, baby,” he mumured against Steve’s skin. Steve hummed, pulling him up for a heated kiss. He groaned softly into Billy’s mouth, swirling his tongue around Billy’s before biting his bottom lip. With a grunt, Billy nipped back, focused on pulling those lovely noises from Steve.

It’s why he didn’t hear the front door.

Didn’t hear the footsteps in the hall.

Didn’t hear anything until,

“Billy.” His father’s voice was right outside his door and he froze, cold fear running through him. Steve was wide eyed beneath him, panic evident on his face. The door creaked open and it was like everything was in slow motion. Billy moved off of Steve, glad they’d at least tossed their briefs on, as his door opened. “Who’s car is that in front–” Neil stopped, mouth open in shock. Billy was halfway off, one leg still on the bed, and Steve was up on his elbows, hair mussed, lips red and shiny. The hickies he had been lovingly kissing moments ago were now stark and too bright against Steve’s pale skin. It was like time stopped. Like the world was imploding in on itself.

“Dad,” Billy said, voice shaking. He could barely wrap his head around the fact that they had _been caught_ , much less why _the fuck_ his father was home. It snapped Neil out of whatever daze he was in, and fury morphed his face into something _terrible_.

“You fucking _faggot_ ,” he spit out, stalking forward. Billy stepped back, hitting the wall. “In _my goddamn house_ –”

“Don’t you _fucking_ touch him!” Steve yelled, scrambling off the bed to step in front of Billy. Neil froze for a moment, shocked at the _audacity_ , and Steve took the opportunity to push Billy towards the door, keeping himself between Billy and his father. Neil was quick, not one to linger, and he grabbed Steve’s arm, yanking him back aggressively. Steve fell back, bouncing onto the bed with a rush of air. Neil was furious, eyes blazing as he raised his hand, and Billy–

Billy saw red.

He wasn’t totally sure what the noise that came out of his mouth _was_ , but it was raw, and it was _angry_ , and it distracted Neil long enough for Billy to clock him in the jaw. His father stumbled and Billy pulled on Steve’s hand. They could take him, but Neil was ruthless, was cruel, would play _dirty_ , and Billy wasn’t risking Steve.

“ _William!_ ” His father bellowed, bracing himself on the wall before spinning back around. Billy shoved Steve out the door of his room, grabbing Steve’s jacket with his keys that had been tossed on the sofa by his door. Neil stormed forward and Billy slammed the door in his face, for the first moment in his life, pleased his father had a lock on the outside of his door. Neil roared, pulling on the door as he yelled, “You disgusting fucking _queer_! You better run! You think I’m gonna go easy this time? I’m going to kill you and your pillow biting, fairy ass–” Billy tuned him out, shoving a stunned and raging Steve towards the door.

There was the sound of wood cracking and Billy barely spared time to grab their shoes as he shoved Steve out the front door towards his car. Neil’s footsteps thundered behind him and the boys ran, scrambling into the car and peeling out as Neil emerged from the house, screaming.

“What the fuck! I’ll fucking _kill him_ if he lays a fucking hand on you!” Steve steamed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. It was sweet, but silly since he was only in his jacket and briefs. Billy was gonna be lucky if he had any belongings left, honestly. He sighed, rubbing his temples as tears burned behind his eyes. Steve gripped his knee, chin wobbling as he held in what he was feeling. He took a deep breath, licking his lips. “I’m so sorry. If my stupid–” He bit his lip and Billy intertwined their fingers.

“He was gonna find out eventually,” Billy said quietly. Steve made a wounded sound.

“Billy, if you go back there I–” He let out a shuddery breath. “Fuck. We’re going to Hopper.”

“Steve, no–”

“Steve, _yes_ , actually!” He snapped. “I know you think you can handle this, that you have to endure it for Max, but–” Steve swallowed and his chin wobbled again. Billy waited for him to continue, but Steve didn’t. He stared out the windshield, hot, angry tears spilling down his cheeks.

“We don’t have any concrete _proof_ , baby.” Billy murmured. “It’s just till I graduate next year. I mean, well…” He let out a hollow laugh that made Steve clench the wheel tighter.

“Every time you go in that house,” Steve whispered, “I don’t know if you’re going to come out.” Billy’s breath hitched. He often wondered the same thing. “How can I– How can I say I love you if I let you go every night?” Billy stared, wondering if Steve even registered what he said. Was _saying_. “How can I– Fuck!” He hissed and gripped the wheel some more. Billy didn’t know what to say. He felt like he was choking, emotions welling up inside of him. He didn’t know which one would come out if he opened the gates, so he kept them shut. “I can’t do this,” Steve whispered. Billy let out a small gasp, “I can’t pretend like this isn’t a big fucking deal anymore. I’m going to Hopper,” he said, firm with no room for argument. Billy was silent. “I know you don’t– I just–” Steve let out a shaky breath, pushing it past his lips. “I can’t let you go back. I can’t.” He swallowed thickly, staring out the windshield as tears rolled down his cheeks. Billy looked out the window, letting his tears fall silently. Steve flailed a hand and gripped his, sniffling.

“I’m going to have to go back,” Billy finally said, just as they pulled up Hopper’s drive. Steve paused, not looking at him, face blank. “To get whatever I can salvage.”

“I’ll get Max to do it,” he said, still not looking.

“Steve–”

“You are _not_ going back in that house,” Steve snapped, eyes widening when he realized. He pulled away, eyes wide and he bit his lip. “I’m sorry, I–” Billy pulled him into a kiss, brief and hard.

“Let’s start by talking to Hopper, okay?” Steve looked into his eyes, searching. He found the truth, found Billy ready, and he smiled, resting their foreheads together.

“Okay.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hey I'm new at 'Asking' on tumblr but I'll give it ago, I was thing like, a harringrove soulmate au, (it can be what ever) but like they find out mid-flight at the Byers, like (the thing you choose) happened, and maybe even one of the kids see and is all like "omg are u guys SOULMATES?!?!?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first ever soulmark fic!  
> (Quick note: Shirts v Skins in this is more Shirts v Tanks for privacy based around marks. Most things are made so you have privacy, but a lot of people are open with their marks anyway.)  
> Unbeta'd

The day that Steve found out that Nancy wasn’t his soulmate probably should have been a little sadder. Don’t get him wrong, Steve had been fucking heartbroken. Had felt like something was missing inside him. But it had _made sense_. Because there was always something that didn’t click between the two of them. Where Steve reached, Nancy pulled away. Where she went, he couldn’t follow.

He reminded himself it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love him, you can’t _make_ yourself love another person, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Also, he probably should have seen it coming when he got his mark. When the mark appeared on his ribs, a crown encircled by a wave.

He had no fucking _idea_ what that meant. How it related to him and Nancy.

After the breakup, done in her front yard on her birthday in late August, when hers appeared and was a camera with an eye for a lens, he had hated looking at it. Hated the reality it presented, even if he was happy for Nancy and Jonathan. More jealous of what they had together. The mark was a constant reminder that _he_ was the problem, so he stopped showering at school after practice. Changed and left as quickly as he could. Did the same at home, hoping, _wishing_ that if he just didn’t look, it would go away. It never did. He never looked in the mirror without a shirt anymore.

Then Billy Hargrove arrived and Steve’s world was _fucked_.

He was _everywhere_ , getting into Steve’s space, challenging him for the throne he didn’t even fucking _want_. Blue eyes, tanned skin, rough hands, and a tongue that refused to stay in his mouth. Steve didn’t like to admit that that tongue had featured a lot in his dreams. That he had imagined Billy pressing him against his bed, pressing him against fucking _anything_ , and speaking in that low voice that hit Steve in his gut.

It wasn’t necessarily shocking, Steve had come to terms with kinda looking at boys too, but it’d never been like _this_. He’d never been so utterly _consumed_ by the thought of another person. Not even with Nancy. Billy Hargrove was a temptation, but also not a possibility. He was a man’s man, a ladies man, and an all around asshole.

By the time he had joined the basketball team, Steve had developed the worst one sided crush he’d ever had in his life. And it didn’t even make _sense_. Sure, he’d noticed that Billy was smart, was attentive and observant, just like Jonathan. But he was also a _massive tool_.

Practice was normal enough, Billy and Tommy doing what they could to get a rise out of Steve, but he quickly brushed it off, making a beeline for his locker. He heard the clanking of a lock and turned to see Billy opening his locker. When he noticed that Steve wasn’t showering he turned his wolf-like grin on him, tongue peeking out between his teeth.

“What’s up, Harrington? Kings don’t sweat?” Steve ignored him, sighing. Billy smirked, smile going sly and… something Steve couldn’t place. “Got an embarrassing mark or something?” Steve rolled his eyes, blocking Billy’s view of the left side of his ribs as he pulled his shirt on.

“Just don’t want y’all tryin’ to look at my massive dick, Hargrove,” he replied. There was a pause, then Billy laughed, loud and bright. It sounded surprised and almost happy.

“That so, _King_?” Steve slammed his locker closed and shot Billy a dark look. He kept his eyes on Billy’s, not letting them wander over the expanse of his chest. Billy smirked, like he knew where Steve _wanted_ to look, where he wasn’t _going_ to look. Steve turned on his heel and left, ignoring the blood pumping in his ears.

Then everything kinda went to shit.

Or well, really, _really_ went to shit.

He didn’t know _why_ Billy had to always goad him, had to be such a _prick_ all the time. Why he had to come here to find Max, on tonight of _all nights_. Why he had to smash a fucking plate over his head. And now here he was, being flipped over as Billy straddled him, much differently from his dreams, and got ready to beat the shit out of him. Steve looked up at him, hating that the light created a halo behind him, hating that he looked good, hating _everything_. Billy’s shirt was hiked up, Steve had tugged it free from his jeans as they grappled, and as he moved, it rose some more.

“Holy shit!” Dustin’s exclamation wasn’t new, mixing in with the cries of the other teens, but then he said something that made both boys pause. “Your mark!” Billy went _rigid_ on top of him, slapping his hand over the side of his back hip as he turned and leveled Dustin with a glare.

“What?” He snarled, tugging his shirt down with one hand while he held Steve down with the other. “If you think pointing that shit out is gonna make me--”

“I’ve seen it,” he whispered, eyes widening. “Oh my god, that’s--” He let out a weird sound, making Billy let Steve go fully, narrowing his eyes. Steve took his chance, sitting up quickly, trying to shove Billy back, but he gripped Steve’s body with his legs, pulling him along. They rolled and Dustin let out another strange noise. “You guys! Stop!” Both older teens turned to look at him, confusion on their faces. He went forward, tugging at Billy’s shirt, trying to get a better look at his mark. Billy scrambled away, shoving Dustin’s hands.

“What the fuck!”

“You have the same mark,” Dustin breathed, eyes going wide. Billy stared at him, contemplating, before his eyes slowly widened. Steve furrowed his brow, not getting it.

“What?” Billy took a step away, looking ready to run, which was so different from only moments before that Steve was feeling weirder than he had about _carrying a dead monster_.

“Remember when you showed me your mark,” Dustin said, speaking fast, “I would recognize it fucking anywhere--”

“Max,” Billy snapped, breath coming in shorter, “We’re fucking leaving.”

“No,” she said, anger barely restrained. “Fuck you, Billy! We’re doing something _important_.” He grit his teeth, turning his back on Steve, looking right at her. Dustin looked between him and Steve, before his face hardened and he yanked up Billy’s shirt, mark on display.

Steve couldn’t fucking _breathe_.

“Fuck _off_ , shithead!” Billy said, wrenching away from Dustin and shoving him back, though the push was weak. He turned back to Max, not once looking at Steve, who was still staring, mind wrapping itself around _Billy_ having a crown. A crown with a _wave circling it_. Of _Billy_ , the total womanizing douchebag, having _his mark_. “Maxine, Neil and Susan want you home, we’re _leaving_.”

“Wait,” Steve said. It was quiet, but it cut through the room. Billy tensed, not turning around. Steve wanted to ask, wanted to show Billy his mark, wanted to figure out what the fuck was happening, but they didn’t have time. Mike tensed up, already knowing what Steve was going to ask. “Guys, I think--”

“No!” Mike cried. “No, we’re not telling him!”

“He’s not gonna leave without Max,” Steve snapped, finally getting up. Billy had retreated slightly, still twitching with anger, but his curiosity was starting to win out. “And,” he sighed, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if we tell him, we’ll have another person to go with us and--” he let out another sigh, “We’ll do your plan. In the tunnels.” The preteens exchanged glances and huddled together. There was intense whispering, one ‘ew,’ and then they were turning back.

“Nothing about-- You know,” Lucas said, miming a nosebleed. Mike looked unhappy, arms crossed as he hunched over, but he didn’t say anything.

“Fine, fine.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“What in the _fuck_ are any of you talking about?” Billy snapped.

“Are we _not_ going to discuss that you guys have matching marks?” Dustin said, _clearly_ unable to read the room. It was like all the air had been sucked out, like the eye of a storm.

“Dustin,” Steve said, voice restrained and even, “I seriously need you to drop it.”

“But--!”

“Drop. It.” Steve said through gritted teeth. Billy bristled and Steve’s eyes flickered over to him. He wasn’t looking back, just angrily staring at the floor. “Hargrove,” he said, and Billy still didn’t look at him. “This is gonna sound weird, and you aren’t gonna believe me, but--” He paused, not sure what to say. Then he remembered. “Follow me.” Billy looked at him then, eyes narrowed and wary, almost scared, and wasn’t _that_ funny. Still, he followed, and while the kids moved to do the same, Steve glared them into submission. “You guys get the stuff ready, okay? You’ll just overwhelm him otherwise.” He couldn’t help it, he put his hand on Billy’s lower back, ushering him into the kitchen. Billy moved away, movements jerky. It felt like ice in Steve’s veins, but he could worry about his soulmate hating him later.

“So?” Billy snapped, licking his lips anxiously. “Show me.” Steve took a deep breath and pulled open the door of the fridge. The demodog spilled out, practically oozing onto the floor, and if it wasn’t the night it was, if hell wasn’t knocking on the door, Steve might have laughed at how bugeyed Billy went. “What the fuck?” He breathed, eyes darting between Steve and the monster. “What the _fuck_ is that?”

“That,” Steve said, “Is a demodog. It’s a monster from a different dimension called the Upside Down. We gotta go kill and distract a horde of them so the chief can close the gate and kill their connection to the other side.” Billy stared at him, blinking. He pursed his lip, pointing a finger, before dropping both and looking at Steve like he’d grown a second head.

“What?”

“Essentially,” Steve said, glancing at the clock and noticing they needed to _leave_ , “We gotta go distract and maybe kill a bunch of monsters or they’ll take over Hawkins. You in?” Billy stared at him, brow furrowed. Steve stared back, tired and ready to fight if he had to. Wondering about where that syringe went. Billy finally swallowed and looked away. His voice was low when he responded.

“You want me to come along?” He sounded almost shocked. “Even with--” He pursed his lips, going red. Like he hadn’t meant to bring it up, but also couldn’t stop thinking about it. Or maybe that was just _Steve_.

“Of course,” Steve said, scoffing a little. Billy frowned at him, looking defensive. Steve licked his lips, feeling bold. The night was already scary enough. “I’ve been crushing on you since you got here basically.” Billy’s eyebrows shot up and Steve looked at his shoes. There was demodog on them so he looked back up, but not at Billy. “Even though you were a _total tool_ ,” Billy scoffed, “You were smart and like, so much more than you let people believe.” Billy was silent and Steve chanced it, looking at him. Billy stared at him, face soft and open, at least more so than usual.

“Can I--” He licked his lips. “Can I see it?” Steve’s breath hitched and he swallowed, nodding. He untucked his shirt, hiking it up to show the left side of his ribs. Billy's thick hand splayed over it, thumb rubbing the mark. Steve shuddered, mouth parted slightly. His touch was electric, especially over the mark. Now that they _knew_ , it made sense. King Steve, engulfed and protected by the rushing and wild wave that was Billy Hargrove. His breath hitched as he watched Billy stare, each rub of his thumb sending sparks through Steve. The mark looked right, now. Like it was meant to be there, bright against his pale, skin, marking him for the world to see as _Billys Hargrove’s_ soulmate.

The thought of Billy belonging to _him_ made him shudder again.

“If you guys are done being all sappy,” Mike Wheeler’s voice cut through the moment, shattering it like glass. “We could maybe, I dunno, _go_?” Steve pulled away, beet red, and Billy looked like he could strangle the kid. He had his lanky arms crossed, trying to look fierce, but Steve could see that he was scared. Worried about El. He sighed and gave Billy a loaded look, heading for the door.

“I’ll grab the axe from the shed, you kids pack up the car.” He looked at Billy. “Grab my bat will you?” Billy’s nostrils flared and he grinned, eyes alight.

“Sure thing, _King_.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _**22** or 66 for the ace prompts?_   
>  **#22: “How do I tell him/her/them I want to tie him/her/them up and not fuck him/her/them?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ace prompt list from tumblr. Prompt #22.  
> Unbeta'd.  
> Talk of kink in this!!

Robin watched as Billy sat in his booth, glaring at his melted sundae. He had been lifting and dropping the same spoonful for probably half an hour now, and it was _driving her crazy_. And it wasn’t like Steve wasn’t here. Steve was very _obviously_ pining over Billy, trying to be subtle with his glances. Robin though about maybe strangling herself with the stupid kerchief.

Billy lifted another spoonful, letting the gloopy sugary mess of vanilla, chocolate, fudge syrup, and sprinkles pour back into the cup. She couldn’t _fucking_ take it.

“I’m taking my 15,” she called to Steve, who blinked before shaking himself out of his yearning. Robin didn’t wait for an answer, taking off her apron and stomping to Billy’s table. She slid into the booth, ignoring the shocked glare he sent her, placing her hands on the table and leaning forward. “Spill.” She narrowed her eyes when Billy did nothing but purse his lips and take another messy glob of sundae. “You’ve been sitting here turning that into a disgusting mess for almost 45 minutes, Hargrove,” she pointed out. “You’re. Thinking. Too. Loud.” She punctuated each word with a poke to the table, speaking through gritted teeth. Billy still just pursed his lips and said nothing. Robin sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, you want me to guess? Because you _won’t_ like that.”

“I just–” And Billy cut himself off, angrily mixing his sundae until bits splattered onto the table. Robin narrowed her eyes.

“You better have a good reason to be making a mess for _me_ to clean up.” Figurative her. She’d _definitely_ be making Steve do it.

“I’m assuming you’re aware–”

“That you have a major crush on Steve? Yeah,” she cut him off, waving her hand in a ‘speed up’ motion. “I’ve only got so long a break, let’s cut to the chase.” Billy flared his nostrils, staring at the table, before raising his eyebrows in a sort of ‘welp’ and making eye contact with Robin.

“How do you tell someone you want to tie them up and then _not_ fuck them.” Robin stared at him, thrown. She blinked, turning the words over in her head. “Not in like a, a _weird_ way. In like–” Billy cut himself off with a choked sound, turning red. Robin watched him, furrowing her brow. She tapped the table with her fingers.

“Hargrove, can I ask you something?”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” he mumbled.

“You ever heard of the word asexual?” Billy frowned and nodded. Robin hummed. “You ever hear that they can also participate in kink? That kink isn’t always or inherently sexual?” She looked at her nails, picking at the peeling black nail polish.

“Really?” Billy’s voice was quiet, reserved. Robin looked at him, saw how vulnerable he looked. It was a weird look on Billy Hargrove. This whole thing was weird for Billy Hargrove.

Or at least, the Billy Hargrove he wanted people to _see_.

“Yeah,” she replied, voice soft. “Like,” she thought, chewing the inside of her lip. “Like this: say you never have control in a situation, right? But like, people pretend you do?” Billy gave her a weird look. “Let me rephrase,” she said, waving her hand. “Like, being guilted into doing something. Like, how people aren’t obligated to sleep with their partner, but are also mocked or guilted when they say no?” Robin really wasn’t sure should could do this talk in the remaining 7 minutes, but she was going to _fucking_ try. Billy nodded, brow furrowed. “Now, in certain situations like, say, being _tied up_ , you don’t have control. Except with kink, you do.” Billy pushed his bowl to the side, leaning forward to listen.

“How?”

“If you’ve talked it over with your partner, you have a safe word. So that no matter what, if you really, truly, don’t like what’s going on, they stop. It’s control over no control, yeah?” Billy pursed his lips and looked in Steve’s direction.

“But like, how is it _not_ sexual?” He looked worried, like maybe he wasn’t just talking about _kink_.

“You talk that over with your partner too. Listen,” she took a risk and grabbed Billy’s hand, brow furrowed seriously. “Steve fucking adores you and would be totally happy with just being your friend if that’s what it took.” Billy stared, eyes wide. “Yeah, the boy likes a good blowjob, but he also _loves_ you. Just talk to him. If he won’t accept your boundaries, that’s on _him_ , not you.” Billy’s breath was short, his eyes watery. Robin wondered if anyone had ever told him that it wasn’t _him_ that was wrong.

“But–”

“There’s nothing wrong with you or what you want, Billy,” she said, voice soft but firm. He squeezed her hand, swallowing thickly and scrubbing at his eyes. Suddenly, there was a shadow above them.

“You okay?” Steve was there, hovering. He only had eyes for Billy, concern and worry etched all over his face. Billy blushed as he looked at Steve, giving one last final sniffle. Robin stood, tying her apron back on.

“Yeah,” she said. Steve didn’t look at her, but also didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you take your break, Steve,” she said, finally getting his attention. “Billy can tell you all about it.” The blonde shot her a panicked look, and she mouthed ‘You got this.’ She knew he was aware he didn’t _have_ to tell Steve. Didn’t have to say anything.

When she reached the counter she looked back, smiling at the sight. Steve was flushed, smile bright, and Billy was looking at him like he was the sun.

Robin smirked to herself. _God_ , she was good.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _22 or **66** for the ace prompts?_   
>  **#66. "I said I liked peanuts, not penis."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More ace prompts!  
> Unbeta'd

“Okay,” Steve said, placing his hands on his hips. Billy leaned on the counter across from him, smile wide. He moved the toothpick in his mouth with his tongue, giving his eyebrows a waggle. Dressed in his short red swim trunks and a lifeguard tank top, Billy was a beacon of beauty.

Steve was moments away from just tossing him out for being a distraction.

“Hey,” he said, eyes bright and teasing. “You gonna be my Captain on the sea of flavour today?” His eyes did a quick run over Steve in his uniform, making him flush all the way down his neck.

“For the love of _God_ , Hargrove,” Steve groaned quietly, tilting his head back to close his eyes. “This job sucks enough do you _have_ to rub it in.”

“Yeah, actually,” Billy drawled.

“Why?”

“‘Cause it’s fun.” His smile was bright and playful and Steve hated how cute it made him look. Stupid fucking Billy, with his stupid fucking eyelashes, and stupid fucking freckles.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbled. “What do you want?”

“Build your own sundae,” he replied, pushing away from the counter as Steve moved to ice cream coolers, plastic boat ready. He looked up at Billy expectantly, but the asshole just smiled, _waiting_ to be prompted.

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, with a roll of his eyes. “How many scoops?”

“Gimme two vanilla and one chocolate.” Steve began his scooping, not all interested in the way Billy’s eyes seemed to follow him. Nope, nah, not at all.

“Toppings?” Steve glanced up, almost choking when Billy’s face was right in front of his, smiling.

“I’m thinking some fudge, some caramel, maybe some _nuts_?” Steve wasn’t sure _what_ Billy was playing at, but it was going over his head. And making it _really_ hard to concentrate on anything but the way his eyelashes kissed his cheeks, long and fluttery. The way his pink lips moved the toothpick along them. “What kind would you recommend.” He asked him like there was something to it, something _more_.

“I like peanuts,” Steve mumbled, trying and failing to make eye contact. Billy’s brows shot up.

“ _Really?_ ” Steve made a face.

“Is that weird?”

“No, no,” Billy said, eyes crinkled with mirth. “Just a bit forward to say you like penis on your sundaes.”

“What?!” Steve spluttered, blush coming back full force.

“It’s okay,” Billy said, licking his upper lip, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Penis and ice cream sounds hot.”

“I said I liked _peanuts_ , not _penis_ ,” Steve squeaked. Billy paused, mouth pursed, before starting to blush himself.

“Oh. Then, uhm, peanuts sound good,” he replied, mumbling now. Steve wasn’t sure what changed, but Billy shrunk back, blush still high on his cheeks, scuffing the floor with the tip of his sandals.

“Cherries?” Steve hadn’t been thrilled with whatever Billy had been playing at before, his stupid crush was already bad enough, thanks, but he realized he hated this reserved Billy _even more_. Billy shrugged, giving a small nod. It made Steve frown. But he piled the cherries on, because he knew Billy loved them. When they arrived at the register, Billy was still subdued, looking almost upset. Steve was going over the interaction in his mind, wondering where the _fuck_ it went wrong. They hadn’t even conversed that much. But something in the way Billy’s eyes stayed downcast, all dejected, and how they stopped looking at him, made Steve ache a little in his chest and-- _Oh_. Steve was a _dumbass_.

Billy looked in his wallet, flipping through the cash he had with a frown, and Steve coughed to get his attention. Billy glanced up, brow furrowed.

“On the house,” Steve said, pushing the sundae towards Billy, who was looking slightly perkier, if not confused.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, as long as you answer my question.” Billy closed off, taking a step back.

“What question,” he replied, voice carefully neutral.

“Were you flirting with me?” The way Billy’s face went bright red was answer enough. “‘Cause I’m really bad at noticing that kind of thing, just ask Robin.” Steve could feel himself rambling, but the idea that Billy Hargrove was into him was all at once thrilling and the _worst_. He wanted to date Billy. _Really_ wanted it, honestly, and had for a while. But Billy was notorious for moving things fast and Steve-- Steve didn’t really want that. “And uh, if you wanted to like, go on a date or something, that’d be chill,” Billy smiled wide, shocked and happy. “But I just-- Uhm,” he swallowed, unsure how to say it. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of being ace or anything, he just knew how much Billy liked sex and, well. “I don’t want to-- I’m ace. So if that’s a deal breaker, uh.” He looked up at Billy, who had a small gentle smile on his face. It wasn’t what he was expecting.

“That’s fine,” he replied.

“Really? But you’re always so--”

“Steve,” Billy said, smile incredulous but happy, “I’ve been trying to flirt with you for the past three weeks. Buckley said it wouldn’t work, and I should have believed her,” he said, ducking his head. He bit his bottom lip before looking back at Steve. “She mentioned you were ace and I just,” he blushed more, shrugging and trying to play it off, “I just wanna be around you. I don’t-- I don’t care how.” Steve could have kissed him. So he did. Billy smiled against his lips, a few whoops coming from the corner of the store where Dustin had set up shop earlier, and Steve pulled back, beaming.

“Really? Like, really?”

“If I was only interested in getting my dick wet, I would have fucked off a long time ago.” Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop smiling. “I like _you_ , Steve.” His face was sincere, serious. “Like, I _really_ like you,” he said, turning red.

“Well, then it’s pretty lucky that I really like you too,” Steve replied, happiness taking up all the open space inside him. “Wanna hang around until I get off my shift?” Billy’s smile was radiant.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _13\. "I am a complete and total asexual disaster." 👍😁👍_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More ace prompts!  
> Ace Steve in this one.

Steve giggled, pressing his finger to his lips in a shushing motion. Billy rolled his eyes, crowding Steve against the door. They tumbled into Steve’s house, feeling their way through the dark.

“Shh,” Steve said. Billy just snickered and bent down to take off his shoes, stumbling and falling hard on his ass.

“Shit,” he hissed. It quickly devolved into giggles, and Steve joined him. He reached out a hand to help Billy up, but ended up being pulled down into his lap. “Hey there, pretty boy.” Steve smiled and gave him a quick peck. Billy smiled back and wrapped his arms around Steve. “Comfy,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck. “D’Wanna move.”

“Mmmm,” Steve hummed in agreement. “But if we stay here it’s gonna be _really_ painful in the morning.” Billy made a low whining noise. “Maybe we can crawl into the kitchen at least. Get some water.” His words were slurred, the alcohol making him feel heavy and happy and warm. But that also might have been Billy. Beautiful, lovely, understanding Billy.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Billy said, popping his head back up with a grin. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were sparkling and Steve _loved him_. He gave him another kiss, this one deeper, before pulling back and crawling off of Billy’s lap. There was an ‘oof’ as his limbs flew around, but ultimately, Steve made it to the kitchen. He used the counter to help him up, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard to fill with water. As he did so, Billy made his way into the kitchen, dragging himself along the floor. Steve sipped his water and turned, inhaling sharply and choking when he saw Billy, hair flat on one side, jacket half off, and pants undone, trying to get up while also removing his pants. He spit up water, most of it going down his chin and onto his shirt. The shock made him drop the glass, which shattered.

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, though it dissolved into giggles. “I am a complete and total asexual _disaster_. Don’t come over here, Mr. Barefoot.” He was glad he still had his shoes on as he grabbed the dust pan, sweeping up the best he could.

“Well,” Billy drawled as Steve tossed out the glass and carefully made his way to Billy. “I’m a complete and total gay disaster, so I think we’re a good pair.” Steve couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. He pulled Billy in for a kiss, grabbing him by the cheeks. Billy hummed and followed when Steve moved back, still holding him, and made for the stairs.

“You know how much I love you, Hargrove?” He whispered.

“Probably almost as much as I love you,” he replied. It took Steve’s breath away, and not just because he was still drunk.

“You’re getting the _shit_ cuddled out of you for that,” Steve said. Billy smiled.

“Oh, I count on it.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _6 and/or 7 for the ace prompts thingy if you have time and wanna do it!! I'm also intrigued by 22 but ya I'm not picky so HAVE FUN N DO WHAT YOU WANT ✌🏻💞🐱_   
>  **7\. "I just don't. Want to! Why is that so hard to understand?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ace Will in this one!

“Hey.” Steve sat next to Will on the steps of the Byers’ porch. Will grunted in response, tugging at the grass sprouting next to the bottom step. Each rip got more forceful, until Steve reached out a hand, brow furrowed. “Hey,” he said again, softer this time.

“It’s not fair,” Will said, voice wobbly. He went to rip more grass, but stopped, fist clenching.

“What’s not fair?”

“ _Them_ ,” Will replied, gesturing towards his house. “They always-- They’re always just interested in doing _date_ stuff, even when it’s supposed to be _our night_.” His face got red and blotchy, tears begging to glisten in his eyes, and Will angrily rubbed them away.

“Yeah,” Steve said gently.

“And they always act like _I’m_ being difficult when I don’t wanna do stuff that just ends up with me alone and them in their stupid couples!”

“Dustin doesn’t end up in a couple.”

“Yeah, but all he talks about is Suzie!” Will threw up his hands, tears falling freely now as his face twisted in frustration and pain. “They only talk about their _stupid_ relationships and their _stupid_ drama and--” He took a shuddery breath in, wiping at his eyes again. Steve leaned over, wrapping an arm around Will. “They keep telling me I wouldn’t feel left out if I found a girlfriend or boyfriend and I just--” He pressed his palms against his face, sniffling.

“Wow,” Steve said, brow furrowed. “That’s really not cool.”

“They keep acting like it’s weird I don’t want to date anyone, that I’m being picky, but I--” He let out a scream of frustration through his clenched teeth. “I just _don’t_ ,” he held his hands out, like he was shrugging, or grasping for an explanation that wasn’t there, “Want to!” Steve pulled Will closer and the boy deflated, leaning into Steve’s side. “Why is that so hard to understand?” His voice was quieter, sad now, and Steve’s heart hurt a little.

“They’re wrapped up in themselves,” he replied, giving Will’s arm a comforting rub. “They’re happy with dating, so they think that’ll solve your problems too.” Will grunted again, face pressed into Steve’s chest. “Have you told them you’re not interested?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “And they keep saying I will be eventually but--” He tensed up and fisted his hand in Steve’s shirt. “What if I never am?” He rasped. “What if I’m _broken_?”

“Hey,” Steve said, frowning and patting Will’s arm so he pulled back to look Steve in the eye. “You’re not broken. Even if you never date anyone, never have sex, never even _kiss_ someone, you’re _not_ broken.” Will’s chin wobbled and he buried his face in Steve’s chest again, crying openly. Steve wrapped his arms around Will, holding him, even as he heard the door creak open. He looked up and saw Billy, brow furrowed in concern, and he shook his head. Billy looked ready to come out, but Steve shook his head again. Billy retreated inside the house and Steve gave Will a few pats on the back.

“Do you promise?” His voice was weak, quiet, but there was hope there.

“I promise, Will. If anyone ever tells you that, you can tell them to come talk to me or Billy.”

“Even if it’s Dustin? Or Max?”

“ _Especially_ if it’s Dustin or Max because they’re your friends. That shouldn’t say that kind of stuff to you.” Will nodded and pulled back, wiping his nose and eyes on his shirt sleeve.

“And it-it’s fine even if that stuff _never_ happens? If I’m alone forever?”

“Hey,” Steve smiled, teasing. “If you think for one second that we won’t bug you for the rest of your life, you are sorely mistaken.” It got him a watery laugh, though it was weak. “Listen,” Steve swallowed, leaning forward to brace himself on his knees. “When I was popular, I had a lot of friends. People knew my name, knew who I was, and wanted to spend time with me. But I felt really alone.” He sniffed, picking at a loose thread in his pants. “I _was_ alone, kinda.” He let out a sigh. “What I mean is, you can have someone, you can be dating and think you’re in love, and still be alone. Still _feel_ alone. Being alone is,” he paused, trying to find the words, “It’s different for everyone. And being in a relationship doesn’t mean you aren’t alone.”

“I guess,” Will mumbled.

“As long as you have friends, you aren’t gonna be alone. And I know you’ll always have me and Billy,” he said, pulling Will in for a noogie. He protested weakly, finally starting to smile. When Will finally pulled away, he looked happier. Looked a little lighter.

“Yeah?”

“Trust me, Billy’s crazy protective of you, even if he won’t admit it. You’re one of ours, Will. Always and forever.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _just woke up and I’m still prety high but I dreamt of this so I needed to tell my favorite harrygrove people. Ok so Billy is good at giving Steve the business and Steve is like whoooaaa this feels amazing I want to be the one to make billy feel amazing, but Billy’s never had that TRUST before because it was always dirty hookups blowjobs or whatever fo spare cash, never in the BUTT. But Steve is Steve so billy is like ok for him I will so his first time? Hes super nervous and shaky like dam Victorian virgin say what but Steve is all tender and it’s sexy soft but hallelujah prostate fun what you think?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _DUDE DUDE DUDE_
> 
> _Listen, I am very stoned right now, saw this, and it directly relates to what we talked about in the discord the other day and like, this is my head canon, my friend. This is exactly it._
> 
> Some stoned ramblings but also kinda a fic.
> 
> Fingering and anal mentions

Like, Steve has _always_ trusted his partners, and Billy has _no idea_ how to handle it. That Steve trusts him enough to give himself over like that. To let Billy take that control. It goes right to his head, his dick, and his _heart_.

But Billy can’t. He loves Steve, trusts him, but when they start this off? The first time anal is even a thought? No. He can’t. California was better in a lot of ways, but it was dangerous for young, handsome boys. _Very_ dangerous. So Billy had never done more than blow jobs, usually had gotten paid for it (because he wasn’t like, _dumb_ ,, he knew he could make lots of money and he was gonna, he had shit to buy and a dad to get away from), and a lot of it was skeevy. He’s all about condoms, all about getting tested. _”Nothing sexier than knowing your status, Harrington,”_ he’ll say.

But like, yeah. He didn’t trust like _that_ , didn’t know if he _could_ , so he was really glad Steve was all for trying it out. Took a weight off of him he didn’t know he had been bearing.

Then, eventually, Steve’s just getting fucking railed, and he’s like,

“ _Fuck_ , Billy,” he whines, voice going high. “You feel so _fucking_ good.” And he’s gripping Billy’s shoulder blades, letting out these sweet moans, and Billy loves it, makes him _drip_ , but then he thinks

_I want that._

And it’s a jarring weird thought. And he stutters and pulls out suddenly, still hard, blinking in confusion. Steve sits up, panting and sweaty, concern written all over his face.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Billy moves back over Steve, looking down at him, stunned. Because the sun is leaking in the window, lighting up his hair in a soft glow. It’s all messy and loose from sleep and sweat and sex, but it’s _beautiful_. His honey eyes look golden in the light, and the flush on his skin, paired with the moles and the _hickeys_ , Billy is _overwhelmed_ by how much he loves Steve. How he’d do anything for him. How he always, _always_ trusts him to have his back.

And Steve is a bit nervous, cuz Billy’s just staring at him, but it doesn’t seem _bad_ per say, so he waits. Waits while Billy stares at him like he’s seeing something amazing, something _breathtaking_ , and it makes Steve squirm a little. Makes him feel kinda good. And then, _then_ , Billy says,

“I want you to fuck me,” and he’s breathless, sincere, and Steve nearly cums right _there_ , because he’s been thinking about how he wants Billy to feel as good as he does. Wants to take care of him. So he sits up and he smiles.

“Really? Are you sure?” Because he may be excited, but he’s gotta make sure Billy’s okay. That Billy’s doing this cuz he really wants to. Billy nods.

“Yeah, I--”He inhales, still kinda reeling, “I’m really sure.” He looks at Steve, eyes full of trust, and love, and everything beautiful, blue and brilliant. And _Steve_. Steve grabs his shoulders and says,

“Get back in me _right now._ ” Billy laughs and does so, and they finish soon after, _glowing_.

Then we get to the night of. They’ve worked it out, prepared and made themselves ready for everything. Steve had gotten lube, _so much lube_ , but he wanted Billy to feel comfortable. And maybe just the sight of more would help. Billy didn’t think it worked that way, but Steve was fretting, so he let him do what he needed. He was nervous, kinda freaking out the closer it got, but every time he looked at Steve, it washed away. Because he really trusted him.

They’d fought monsters, fought his _father_ , and they’d won. _Were_ winning. Were doing pretty okay.

So Billy is ready. And he lays on the bed, legs spread, face red with nerves and excitement, and he’s beautiful. Steve can’t help running his hands over Billy’s skin, thrilling in the feel of it under his palms. And Billy’s shaking, hardening quickly, but Steve’s taking his time, worshiping Billy's body until he’s trembling and leaking and _needy_ ,

“Fucking,” Billy pants, “Fucking _do it_ , Steve!” Desperate and jerking his hips. And Steve kisses Billy’s belly, helping him relax as he coats his finger in lube and rubs it up and down Billy’s crack. Billy shivers at the feeling, dick twitching. Steve coats his finger in more lube, circling Billy’s rim teasingly, light and feathery, before **_finally_** sinking in. And yeah, it’s weird, but it’s _good_ , and Billy gasps, eyes snapping open and mouth dropping as he moans. Steve looks up, face flushed, dick red, hard, and leaking between his legs, and locks eyes with Billy. They stare at each other until Steve wiggles his finger, pushing in and out, and Billy tilts his head back, groaning.

“Keep as relaxed as you can,” Steve says against Billy’s stomach, giving it light kisses.

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy replies, still a little tense.

“You know,” Steve says, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He curls his finger and Billy lets out a throaty whine. “Been thinking about how you always make me feel so good,” more lube, two fingers circling, “Always take care of me, make sure I know how much you _like_ me,” pushing in, making Billy gasp as Steve slowly pushes them in and out, “And I wanted to do that for you. Wanted to make you feel _so good, baby_ ,” scissoring, gasps and whines, hips bucking and grinding against the fingers, “Yeah? That feel good?”

“Shit, _yes_ , Steve, _yes_ , it feels so _fucking_ good,” Billy rambles, hips moving with Steve’s fingers, flushed down to his chest where his hard, perky nipples scream for Steve to suck on. Soon enough.

“How about this?” And he hooks his fingers, thrusting and feeling until he found it--

“Ahh! Fuck!” Billy screams, fingers twisting in the sheets as Steve massages his prostate. “Holy fuck-- Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Billy chants, head thrown back as he drips onto his belly, precum glistening. “Oh shit, Steve, shit, I-I’m--” And he cums, shooting up his chest. Steve watches, entranced, and just the sight, the beautiful sight of Billy’s golden skin, glistening with cum and pre and sweat, an amazed smile on his face, sends him over the edge. He whines, jerking his cock with his other hand quickly, as he spills onto the sheets. He slowly pulls his fingers out, kissing Billy's stomach again. He grabs the wet wipes, cleaning them up, while Billy pants and smiles, fucked out. Steve crawls into bed, wrapping his arms around Billy and kissing his neck.

“Good for a start?” Billy nods, practically shining like the _sun_ , he’s so happy--

_”Perfect.”_


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi hi! i'm a new follower! i'm not sure if you're doing request rn or not :) first u are an AMAZING writer i spent all day reading ur works! and second !! i i'm in love w the head cannon of steve having a stutter and i was wondering if you could write more abt that? maybe like billy lives w hopper and they're snugglin in billy's room n hopper comes in and steve gets really nervous and his stutter comes out?? idk lol !! i love ur work tho !! sorry this was so long :)

“So you’re telling me that _Batman_ could beat _Superman_ –”

“It’s not just about strength–”

“Those nerds have gotten in your _head_ , baby,” Billy groaned, rolling on his back to cover his eyes. Steve shifted, turning around so he could pout into Billy’s shoulder. Well, more like armpit.

“You’ve said _numerous_ times, it’s not about what you have, it’s about how you use it–” Steve began, but Billy cut him off with a laugh.

“Yeah, about dicks!” Billy pulled Steve in closer with his arm, tangling their legs together again. “Not about superhero powers.” Steve squirmed, pretending like he wanted to get away, but his arm wrapping around Billy’s middle to hold him closer kinda broke the facade.

“It still applies,” he mumbled into Billy’s skin, lips dragging along and making Billy shiver. Billy scoffed.

“Not when it’s against _Superman_. I mean, come on, the guy only has _one_ weakness, and there’s no way Batman is gonna get his hands on _kryptonite_.” Their conversation was abruptly cut short when Hopper opened the door, cheeks going pink as the boys froze on the bed. Billy _knew_ that Hopper wasn’t Neil – there was a reason he was living with him – but still. Getting caught set off all the warnings in his head. Hopper gave an awkward cough and gestured at the door.

“Uh,” he put his hands on his hips, then crossed them, then put them _back_ on his hips, like he couldn’t find a way to stand in the doorway that didn’t feel imposing or nonthreatening. It made Billy relax, just a bit. “So,” Hopper said, drawing out the vowel. “You two are uh,” he gestured kinda lamely at the two of them, still cuddled together on Billy’s bed.

“That a problem?” Billy bit out. Hop _wasn’t_ his father, he knew that. But it wasn’t like Neil had particularly _radical_ ideas about being gay. Wasn’t like every _other_ cop Billy’d encountered had made sure he knew _exactly_ what they thought of _his kind_.

“No, no,” Hop said, holding his hands out in surrender and shaking his head. “Not a problem just, uh, not what I expected, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head. Steve was still frozen next to Billy, taking controlled breaths. Billy pulled him a little closer. “We’ll have to talk about this.” Hop winced at his words, not hearing how they sounded until he said them. “I mean, you know the three inch rule for Mike and Jane,” he said, face going redder. It was actually kinda funny. “But you two are older so, uh–” Hopper stopped then, mouth going in a thin line as he stared to the right of the bed. “Yeah. Just wanted to see if you wanted pizza for dinner. Jane’s been craving it, so I thought since it’s a Friday we could eat out.” Hopper finally, _painfully_ dragged his eyes back to the boys. “And uh, you can stay for dinner, Steve. If you’d like.”

“Sure,” he replied, face bright red and body still tense. “Just no– no– no mushrooms, please.” Billy frowned a little, turning to look at Steve’s face. His eyes were tightly shut, mouth in a thin line. Hopper nodded, giving Steve a worried glance, before nodding to Billy.

“And no olives or anchovies for you.” He grabbed the door knob, giving another awkward nod to the boys. “I’ll get you when it’s ready.” And with that, he closed the door until a three inch gap remained. It kinda warmed Billy’s heart. Like, a lot.

But he could think about that later.

“You okay?” He murmured against Steve’s temple.

“I know he– he– he’s not like our da– da– da–” Steve took a shuddery breath, “ _Dads_ ,” he said, words pushed out of him like they were getting stuck behind his teeth. “But _fuck_. I wasn’t read– read– ready.” He let out a whoosh of air, a strong sigh that left his whole body sagged into the bed. “My heart nearly burst– burst– burst outta my chest.” Billy hummed, sad and understanding.

“I know what you mean,” he mumbled. He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, pushing it back as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Can I help at all?”

“You are,” Steve replied with a sigh, content and less shaky than before. His stutter came out when he was stressed, though he usually had it managed. The words got stuck in his throat, behind his teeth, on his tongue, and it took a couple of tries to get past a word he got stuck on. The first time it had happened, after a big fight with his dad, Steve had worried that Billy would make fun of him. Would think he was dumb or broken.

Which, Billy would _never_.

But Steve’s dad did a number on him, albeit in a different way than Billy’s. Left him in need of support and unconditional emotional love. And, well, Billy wasn’t gonna say no to providing that to Steve.

“It was kinda funny though,” Billy finally said. “God, I’ve never seen Hop so red.” That made Steve snicker, moving so he could actually see Billy’s face.

“I thought he was gon– gon– gonna like, try and have a talk _right then_ ,” Steve whispered. “And, no offense, I _definitely_ would have– have– have tried to leave.”

“So would I,” Billy replied, poking at the soft part of Steve’s belly until he was batting at his hand. “You should have _seen_ him when Jane asked about _babies_.”

“Now, I’d actually _pay_ to see that.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13\. “i beg your pardon?!” / “then beg.”

Steve was _tired_. He was _exhausted_. Meeting after meeting after _meeting_ about statistics he didn’t understand, margins that made no sense, and something about something that was good for the company. He’d stopped paying attention about halfway through, unable to understand much beyond _Sit there and look important_.

Steve fucking _hated_ it. Hated working for his father, doing nothing more than being a new fresh face to attract younger clients. He hated corporate life, hated wearing a fucking suit everyday, just… _hated_.

And now, this _fucking_ barista was _being such a fucking–_

“What do you _mean_ you don’t make them? You literally just made one for _her_ ,” he said, pointing at a redheaded young woman, who gave him the stink eye. Steve was too tired to feel embarrassed.

“Because she’s my sister and I’ll do that for _her_ basic ass, but I _refuse_ to make another pumpkin spice latte. It’s not happening,” the guy replied, attractive face warped with disgust. Steve stared at him, blinking, because like, he couldn’t be hearing this right. There was no way.

“You can’t just _refuse_ to make a drink,” Steve said, tired and annoyed and fucking _pissed_ that the barista had to be so _fucking_ attractive. Made him feel tongue tied and made his palms sweat.

God, he _just_ wanted to drown his sorrows in a sweet, froufrou drink that made him forget he was a corporate slave. Was it _too_ much to ask?

“Well, you see,” the guy said, leaning on the counter. It made his biceps bulge a little and Steve couldn’t help but look, even if it was a quick glance. Guy was fucking _sturdy_. “Since I own this place, I can actually kinda do whatever I want.” His grin was sharp, bright, and teasing in a way that made Steve’s stomach do little flip flops. “So no, I’m not making you the shittiest, most basic drink on the planet.”

“For fuck’s sake, Billy,” the redhead snapped. “I don’t get why you’re so against it.”

“It’s literally just cinnamon and nutmeg!” The barista, owner, _Billy_ replied.

“It’s just good!” Steve said. “It tastes like warmth and home and, I dunno, I just fucking like it, okay?” Maxine gestured at Steve like _Exactly_ , movements aggressive. Billy looked back at Steve, raising an eyebrow.

“Well then, maybe I just don’t serve _corporate dickheads_ ,” he snapped. Steve blinked.

“I beg your pardon?” Because, like, he wasn’t _wrong_ , but _seriously_? How was this place still open. The _owner_ was such an ~~attractive~~ _asshole_ –

“Then beg.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up as Billy tilted his head, tongue poking out between his teeth. His eyebrows rose in a challenge, posture relaxed and in command and _Steve really shouldn’t have been so turned on by that._

“Oh my god,” his sister hissed, “Just make him the damn latte or give him his number. I don’t need to watch your weird mating ritual. I wanna get _lunch_.” Billy’s face went red and he glared at her.

“Shut _up_ , Maxine, I’m not–”

“And you,” she said, turning to Steve. “All this over a pumpkin spice latte? There’s a Starbucks three blocks down. Unless you’re still here for _another_ reason.” And, wow, wasn’t she fucking perceptive. Like she _knew_ Steve walked in here when he saw those arms and curls, Starbucks be damned. Steve felt his face heating up, knew he was getting splotchy as his blush went down his neck.

“I, uh, I, uhm,” he stammered, eyes darting to Billy, who looked positively _giddy_ , pressing both hands on the counter as he leaned forward, pushing himself almost all the way across.

“Give him your number so I can get a fucking burrito,” Maxine grumbled, stomping off. “I’m leaving in 2 minutes, Billy! Otherwise you can pay for your own fucking food!” The two of them were quiet in her wake, though Billy’s blue eyes openly ran up and down Steve’s frame. Steve coughed awkwardly.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Billy said, prompting Steve to tilt his head in confusion. “I’d _love_ to hear you beg. Though it wouldn’t be over a coffee.” Steve’s heart beat so fast it almost hurt. He felt tingles all over his body, head to toe, and couldn’t help the nervous giggle he let out. Luckily, Billy seemed to find it cute.

“You’d uh, I mean, but I’m a _corporate dickhead?_ ” Steve tried. He’d just come for a coffee. But, well, a _fuck_ wouldn’t be too bad either. Especially with this guy. Billy shrugged.

“I’m sure we can work past that,” he said. “If you’re willing, that is.”

“I think I might be able to,” Steve said, finally finding his footing. “If you make me a pumpkin spice latte.”

The eye roll was worth it. Especially when he walked out, sipping his latte, grinning over the number written in sharpie on the cup.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bodyswap au

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned into… something. Dunno why, but it just needed to happen this way, lolololol
> 
> Hope you enjoy, yo!!!!! <3

When Hopper arrived at the station, he was hoping for a quiet morning of coffee, contemplation, and sneaking some donuts that El would definitely be mad at him about later. _No donuts. Doctor said less sugar._ He appreciated the care, but also he wasn’t going to stop eating donuts. Not with the world being as weird as it was.

But when he walked in, Flo had a look on her face that made him want to turn right around and leave.

“You have _visitors_ ,” she spat out. “I’ve _never_ known the Harrington boy to be so _rude_ –”

“Thank you, Flo,” Hopper said, cutting her off before she got started. “Why don’t you take an extra break and get yourself something from Melvads?” He grabbed his wallet, putting a five on the table in front of her. “On me.” She eyed him warily but snatched it up and grabbed her purse. He gave her a smile that wasn’t more than his lips stretched into a line, before grabbing a cup of coffee. He downed one, ignoring how it burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth, then poured another. Harrington being rude? It meant _something_ was up. Bratty, sure. Snarky, probably. But _rude_? Not with the parents he had.

When he walked into his office, Hopper paused. Billy sat in a chair next to Steve, legs crossed at the knee as one foot bounced nervously and he chewed on his lip. Next to him was Steve, legs spread wide, slouched in the chair, chewing on his cuticle aggressively. When they heard the door open and close, they turned, both speaking at the same time.

“Hop, you’re not gonna believe this–”

“Some _seriously_ fucked up shit is going on in this fucking town–”

The words came out of the wrong mouths. Billy looked at Hopper, eyes big and innocent in a way he’d never seen on the kid. And Steve looked like he’d stepped in dog shit, nose scrunched and mouth turned down. They spoke over each other, making Hopper rub his temples as he sat down heavily in his chair.

He was getting too old for this shit.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, voice loud. The boys’ mouths snapped shut, Billy looking sheepish and Steve clenching his jaw and looking away. “One at a time, please.” He lit a cigarette, taking a deep inhale. He exhaled slowly, letting the nicotine calm his jitters, before looking back at the two teens. “Steve,” he gestured to the boy. “You first.”

Billy started talking.

“So when I woke up this morning–”

“I said Steve,” Hop said, cutting him off.

“I am Steve,” the blonde replied. Hopper stared at him before taking another long drag off his cigarette and a large gulp of his coffee.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice calmer than he’d thought it would be. “You’re who?”

“I’m _Steve_ ,” Billy, no, Steve, said again. “I woke up this morning in Billy’s body, in his bed, in his _house_.” He could see it now. Had seen it before but couldn’t place _why_. The way Billy ran a hand through his hair and gestured wildly. The way Steve was silent and taking up space with a large scowl. They weren’t themselves. Because they were _each other_.

“Okay,” Hopper said once the boys had explained. “So last night you two had a fight in the woods.” He gave them both a stern look, getting rolled eyes and a sheepish grin in response. “And,” he rubbed his forehead, eyes wide as he tried to wrap his head around whatever the fuck was happening, “This lady _came out of a tree_ ,” he closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, “And said she was _cursing you_ until you _admit the truth_.” The two boys nodded and Hopper felt himself age 10 years. “It ended the fight and you both went to your respective homes and woke up,” he sighed, “Like this.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, twisting Steve’s face into an annoyed grimace. “That’s what we _fucking_ said.”

“I need you to turn the attitude down about 10 notches,” Hopper snapped. Billy just sank lower in the seat. “This is a lot to wrap my head around, so excuse me for making sure I got the facts right.” Billy scoffed, but there was a flush to his cheeks. Well, Steve’s cheeks. Steve was a blusher, Hopper knew. Boy turned red and clammy when he tried to lie. His skin was pale enough that any color stood out.

Hopper wondered if Billy even realized.

“What do we do?” Steve asked. The genuine concern coming out of Billy’s mouth was weird, but at this point, weird was normal and normal was a distant, fond memory. Hopper sighed, pushing back a little and rubbing his hand across the stubble on his chin.

“Well, you admit _the truth_ , whatever that is.”

“Fucking obviously,” Billy snapped. He slid down a little at Hopper’s warning stare. “But she didn’t give us any idea of what _the truth_ even was.”

“Well, what were you two fighting about?” Steve and Billy looked at each other and shrugged.

“I mean, it just kinda started?” Steve said, voice going up at the end.

The two of them had been tousling since Billy had arrived. The amount of times Hopper was called to basketball practice, or the park, or the arcade, were innumerable. And they didn’t even seem to _know_ what they were fighting about. They just got under each other’s skin, he guessed. Billy knew how to needle and jab until a person snapped, and Steve was as bratty as they came, though he had gotten better since the whole monsters thing. Billy had too, for that matter. They should have been _friends_. It wasn’t like they _didn’t_ get along at all. They were a good team, capable, and he trusted them with El.

So it made no sense for them–

_**Oh.** _

Hopper pursed his lips. Thought back to their fights, _really_ thought. Remembered the way Billy would watch Steve like a hawk, eyes always on him. The way Steve never stopped talking about Billy, even if it was to complain. Thought about how it wasn’t _right_ for boys to be physical with each other unless it was a _fight_.

Thought about Neil Hargrove and John Harrington and their bullshit.

“Can I ask you two something?” He sniffed, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth as he tapped on his desk anxiously. “And I want an honest answer.” He looked at them, face grim and serious. They stared back, equally wary and confused. “Why do you keep fighting?” Neither of them replied, just shrugging and not looking at each other.

“Just, I dunno, just ‘cause?” Billy said, poking at the desk with his foot.

“Yeah, you know, rough housing,” Steve said. Billy nodded, like he was convincing himself that was only what it was. “Boys being boys and all that.”

“Sure,” Hopper said. “That’s _a_ reason. But I don’t think that’s why you two are doing it.” He leaned back in his chair. Steve’s eyes darted to Billy and back, panicked. Billy didn’t look up, but he was tense. Long fingers curled into a cashmere sweater, ready for fight or flight.

Hopper knew he wasn’t approaching this right. Knew he was in some dangerous territory. But this was some fairy tale shit, so it probably had a fairy tale ending.

He honestly _hoped_ the boys liked each other like he thought, or his suggestion was going to get him way more grief than he’d like.

“What do you think?” Billy’s voice was as tense as he was.

“I think,” Hopper said, trying to keep his voice soft and without judgement, “That fighting is an excuse. I think that you two like each other a lot more than you let on.” Billy stood, chair squeaking as it scrapped on the floor. Steve’s knuckles were white against the denim on his legs.

“I don’t know what you think you’re playing at–” Billy’s voice was shaking.

“I think you both know exactly what I’m saying,” he said, cutting Billy off. “And I’m not–” He struggled to find the right words. “Look. I don’t _care_ whether you two like each other or not. It makes no difference to me. But I know that there aren’t many ways to _show_ that. Not when it’s two men.” Both of them were sweating and tense and Hopper didn’t know what to say to fix it. “I think you two would rather date each other than fight, but don’t know how to say that to the other person.”

“Wh-What?” Steve laughed, all nerves. “There’s no– Billy’s not– I mean, _I’m_ not–”

“That’s a real riot,” Billy said, mean and scared. “A real laugh riot, Chief.”

“Listen!” Hopper boomed, tired of it. Tired of magic and weird and _bullshit_. The boys’ both stopped talking, staring at him. “I said _honest answers_. This lady saw you two fighting in the woods, right? Fighting over nothing. Fighting as an excuse to get _close_.” They opened their mouths but he held his hands up. “Why would she say you needed to tell the truth. Why did she put you _into each other’s bodies_?” This made them both relax, made them think. “This is all some weird high fantasy, sci-fi shit. I don’t understand it. But what I do understand is finding excuses to be near someone you shouldn’t want to be near.” They looked at each other and Hopper _felt_ the energy between them shift. They locked eyes and didn’t move.

“I–” Steve stuttered. “I–”

“Be honest with each other,” Hopper said. “And maybe you’ll see some changes.” The look the boys shared got more intense and Hopper didn’t want to witness them _being honest_. Whatever that would entail.

“I’ll call the school, get you guys out for the day. Go to Steve’s and _talk_. But get out of my office.” With a nod, and not even a spare glance to Hopper, the boys left. Hopper rubbed a hand over his face before holding his head in his hands.

When he got a call that afternoon, confirming that _Everything has gone back to normal, well, except…you know_ , he allowed himself an extra donut. Because he _fucking_ deserved it.


End file.
